Zweiter Chancen
by Crimson1
Summary: THE END! Emery living with Weiss and Schwartz's reaction. READ & REVIEW!
1. 1

Zweiter Chancen  
  
  
*****1*****  
  
  
Watching. Waiting. Devouring peace of mind like lumps of sugar in Crawford's morning coffee. No sunshine today; it wouldn't dare. The scent of rain replaces it, less than an hour away, saturating the air with its own possibility. The weight of it is humid enough to be scooped out with a spoon, should someone entertain the idea.   
  
How seldom people think worthwhile thoughts.  
  
Leaning nonchalantly against the brick of an alleyway, Schuldrich peers out at the ignorant innocents, sneering at every wayward smile and happy optimism. What do any of them have to be happy about? Life isn't fair. Like isn't just. Life sucks. But hey, if ya gotta be stuck on Earth - the refuse of the universe - you might as well enjoy yourself.  
  
(Keep running your mazes, little vermin, with all those pretty little thoughts. This free ride ends today.)  
  
A perfectly manicured hand reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Smugly, a large smirk spreads across his face as he opens it, reading silently over the neatly scrawled words.   
  
He has secretly been working on a spell for the past two months, right under Bradley's nose, and it is finally finished. Requiring a well-timed mental block to prevent premonitions of his actions from entering the American's mind, Schu has had his hands metaphysically full for quite some time. But if all goes accordingly, it will prove to be well worth it.  
  
A dampening field, a sense of control, a moment of peace and quiet. Diligent research and patience have created all these ideals for him. His long-awaited way out. Or, to put it accurately, his chance at making it much more difficult for others to get in, at least without his permission.  
  
(Just a handful of words...and no more sleepless nights. No more pounding headaches. No more forgetting which thoughts are mine...and which belong...to someone else...)  
  
The corners of his mouth twitch, failing to hold that common grin, and the dull sheen over his eyes almost makes one think he isn't as content as his smiling facade leads you to believe.  
  
Back into the depths of the alley where no one can hear you scream, let alone speak the incantation of a spell, Schuldrich holds the paper up to the meager light, and begins chanting the words in a low, whispering voice.   
  
Two months of waiting, too many years to count of hoping - he sees no point in wasting time now.   
  
If Brad finds out, he will be incensed beyond reason, but that is just a risk the brave young German is willing to face. This may not be the most thought-out decision he has ever made, it may not be the safest or the smartest, but it is definitely the most daring, and one has to respect a man with the balls to screw over Fate the way Fate screws over everyone else.  
  
Unless one remembers what usually happens to those who try.  
  
Schuldrich is thrown off balance as the spell finishes, knocked right on his ass in the middle of the damp and narrow alleyway. Something isn't right. Suddenly the world is spinning faster and faster around him, like some morbid carrousel, and nothing feels solid or stable.  
  
The spell is not what it should be. But before becoming completely overwhelmed by his unbalance, Schu takes small solace in the quiet, and would have found it a great relief if he hadn't realized just how quiet it actually is.   
  
He can still hear the cars going by out in the street, hear the true voices of people talking and yelling and laughing, but as for the voices in his head, they aren't merely softer, as he hoped they would be. They aren't there.  
  
(Shit...what the hell did I do...?)  
  
An odd constriction envelopes him, and without any answer or understanding, Schuldrich's vision deserts him as the universe dims, and he lays unconscious on the concrete, leaving only the veil of shadow to guard him.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
"Youji-kun, you were supposed to prune the roses today!" calls out an exasperated Tsukiyono Omi, standing with small hands planted adorably on his hips.  
  
The popular flower shop, "Koneko no Sumu Ie," is not only known for its impressive arrangements, but for its bishounen employees. However, beauty is not a part of work ethic, and one of the pretty boys in question has a tendency to skirt his responsibilities a little bit more than the others. Especially, when he is conveniently distracted.  
  
"Can't you stop flirting for two seconds to do your job!?" Omi rants on, glaring at his friend - the smooth-talking Kudo Youji - as the tall young man casually leans against the front counter, conversing with a ravishing red-head. "Our best selling flowers are going to choke themselves to death if you keep avoiding your duties like this!"  
  
"Chotto matte, Omi-kun." Youji replies in a sing-song voice, clearly ignoring the protests being flung his direction. "I can't let this lovely creature escape without getting a phone number, ne?"  
  
Blushing shamelessly, the young woman eventually produces a business card with her home number on the back, explaining to her pursuer that he can give her a call whenever he wants. Having received what he had been waiting for, Youji suavely sees her to the door, though not without succeeding in fraying Omi's already frazzled nerves.  
  
It is nearly closing time now, just before supper, and only after the chores are done can they lock the place up for the night. Aware of this, but perfectly content to stay a few extra minutes now that he has a future date in check, Youji turns to the task of the overgrown roses, grinning at little Omi the entire time.  
  
"You are so hopeless, Youji-kun. Just because *you* are not in a rush to close up doesn't mean *I* feel like staying here all night."  
  
Looking up in mock guilt, Youji dramatically clutches a hand to his chest. "Gomen ne, bishounen. Am I keeping you from some steamy cyber date, or were you just planning on handling the job yourself tonight?"  
  
Omi's bright blue eyes widen in horror, his mouth hanging open as if to protest such an offensive idea, though he can't seem to form the words. Diving back into the task at hand, Youji chuckles loudly at Omi's expense, but offers a playful wink for reprieve. It was only a joke, after all.  
  
Amidst the tense silence that follows, footsteps begin to filter down from above, and soon the door leading to the apartment swings open.   
  
Hidaka Ken peers out impatiently, folding his arms over his chest. "You haven't closed up yet? What's taking so long?" he demands, focusing his gaze on the hunched figure still clipping at roses. "Dinner's been ready for ten minutes. Why do you always have to hold things up, Kudo? Hayaku, already!"  
  
"Relax, I'm almost done. Don't get your panties in a twist, KenKen." Youji grins, standing back to admire his hurried but adept work on the budding blossoms. "Save that job for Aya, ne?"  
  
"Nani!?!"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Ken scowls darkly, arms still firmly folded in obvious challenge to the remark. Setting the sheers on the counter, Youji doesn't seem to notice, moving swiftly to pull down the grating at the front and finally lock the shop up for the night.  
  
Eyeing his friends with a half-smile he can't help succumbing to, Omi shrugs, slipping off his apron with a sympathetic nod to his brunette companion, who remains menacingly poised in the doorway leading upstairs.  
  
Soon enough, almost everything is closed down, but just as Youji pulls on the shutters, a small, pale hand catches it a foot from meeting the ground, revealing a pair of feet on the other side. With the grating almost completely set in place, those feet are the only thing Youji's can see of this stranger, but they are not a pair he recognizes. Actually, the shoes look a few sizes too big for whomever it is, like some kid guilty of stealing daddy's slippers for the day.  
  
"Gomen, little fella, but we're closed right now. Come back tomorrow." Youji instructs, holding the grating in place, though the intruder is diligently struggling to lift it back up.  
  
"Sumimasen...this can't wait till tomorrow." replies a very timid voice, desperately urgent, and sporting a strange accent amidst his fluid Japanese. It is definitely a young boy, a teenager no less, but what really grabs Youji's attention is the purr of that intriguing voice. It sounds so familiar. "Dozo...this is very important. I need you help."  
  
Youji's peers back over his shoulder, silently asking for Ken and Omi to give their opinions. Both have moved forward now, curious as to who could be calling on them so late in the evening, and offer their friend supportive nods, indicating Youji might as well give in and see what the boy needs.  
  
Obediently, he lifts the shutters up with a mighty lurch, throwing them back into place, and bringing the boys face to face with their unexpected guest.  
  
"Arigato. This *is* 'Kitty in the House,' ne? I've been searching for hours." the boy smiles kindly, shivering slightly within the folds of his oversized jacket. Everything he has on is oversized, to be exact. The belt of his pants is tightened as far as it can go to keep them from falling off, his shirt is tucked in tight, most likely to his knees, and the coat humorously hangs off his shoulders, showing only the tips of his fingers to the naked eye. "I know you're closed, but I really need to talk to you. I think you might be able to help me figure out what's going on."  
  
The stunned members of Weiss give no answer - they can't - staring voicelessly at this young boy, 16 if not younger, who has interrupted their night. It isn't shock over his oddly dressed appearance, but something else about the way he looks, causing their tongues to be tied.  
  
He stands about Omi's height, thin and fair skinned, with long hair like the horizon at sunset hanging past his shoulders, and bright blue eyes sparkling in the dimming light of day. His nose is sharp, as are the rest of his youthful features, and suddenly, the edge of his voice reveals why it sounds like one they have heard before, at least now that they have seen the boy's face.  
  
It is a German accent, with a somewhat nasal hitch, in a higher register than that of the person they remember this voice belonging to.  
  
"Oh my God..." Youji whispers, and the others can only stare, mouths open wide at the figure appearing so young and unaware before them. "It's Schuldrich."  
  
  
*****A/N***** *evil cackle* Get where I'm heading with this? No, Schu-honey doesn't know who he is, but the rest you'll just have to see for yourself as the story goes. Evil of me? Maybe. But it is something new. A spell to cool down his telepathy took away more than he bargained for - years and memory, as well as all of his powers. It may or may not be permanant, but I'm not telling which. Slight shounen ai is possible, and probable, but the rest of Schwartz will make little appearance, if any. I'm thinking this will be about eight parts or so, but the other chapters will be longer than this one. FEEDBACK PLEASE! And remember, anything is possible. Ja! 


	2. 2

*****2*****  
  
  
One has to love the unexpected, something so impossibly abrupt you almost think you have dreamed it up. But this is real. This isn't an illusion or misunderstanding. Some greater power above has decided to make Weiss' life just a bit more complicated.  
  
Seated around the upstairs living room, four assassins and a misidentified enemy are attempting to sort out a very complicated puzzle. The white hunters have yet to come clean on how much they know about their guest, but they have allowed him into their home, and are treating this situation as cautiously as they can.  
  
It is Schuldrich, after all, no matter how young and innocent he appears.  
  
"Hang on a second, kid. Let's go over this again." Youji suggests, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He is sitting in a plush armchair, with Omi and little Schu together on the couch, Ken leaning over the back of it, and Ran standing intimidatingly against the wall a few feet away.  
  
The young German wrings his small hands together, glancing nervously at the impatient audience following his every twitch. "It's just as I told you; I woke up in an alley a few blocks down. I remember a few things, but not much. I came here hoping you could help me."  
  
"But why *here*? You could have gone to the police or something." Ken expresses from his perch, a little more suspicious sounding than he would like to be, but unable to shake off his mistrust. "I don't see how coming to a flower shop makes much sense."   
  
Schu lowers his head, responding softly above the deafening sound of tension. "I came here...because of this..." Reaching into his draping coat, he retrieves his wallet, and opens it to reveal a huge chunk of cash and numerous assortments of business cards. "I went through it to see if I had any identification, but no luck. What *did* catch my attention...was a card I had from your shop."   
  
Sure enough, he pulls out a white card with the message "Koneko no Sumu Ie. Where beauties bloom in all shapes and sizes," including the shop's address and phone number at the bottom.  
  
"It didn't seem much different from the other cards in here, until I saw what was written on the back." Turning it over for them to see, the young German holds the card out in front of him. Written neatly, in curved and winding hand-writing, an unmistakable word stands out for all to see. "Weiss." he reads aloud, unaware of its significance. "I thought it was weird for me to write something like that. Why put 'white' on the back of a flower shop's business card? It couldn't just be about the flowers. The word felt...familiar, like it represented something important." his cheeks flush slightly, embarrassed by so many eyes watching him. "Maybe I'm just being silly, but 'Weiss' sounded trustworthy, like we were friends. Am I right...? Do you know who I am?"  
  
All eyes search each other, grasping for a fitting answer. All save Ran's that is, who has his conveniently closed, appearing dark and displaced. Every last one of them, however, remains silent. How can they possibly tell this seemingly innocent, young boy the truth about such a horrid identity?  
  
"Bitte...you have to know something." urges such a small, nasal voice, slipping into his native tongue through the anxiety of waiting, and looking beseechingly at every troubled face around him. "Your names didn't sound familiar when you gave them to me, but you sure sounded like you knew mine. Youji-san...you had a name for me when I first came in. Why call me anything if you know nothing?"  
  
"What *is* your name?" Ran asks suddenly, flicking his eyes up with darkening intent.  
  
Schu falters, fearful of that piercing, violet stare. "Uhh...I...."  
  
"You never told us your name when we introduced ourselves." Ran breaks in again, strangely menacing. "Why should we give you a name if you have one already? You say you remember things about who you are, ne? Enlighten us."  
  
"A...alright. It...it's...Emery. Emery Schuldaussen." he stutters in reply, averting his gaze. "It's about the only thing I *can* remember, ringing in my head over and over again. I don't even know how or when I learned Japanese. I just...know it, the way I know my name. I guess 'Schuldrich' could be a nickname then. That's what you called me, wasn't it? Schuldrich - Schuldaussen. Odd name, though. It sounds like schuldig, and that means 'guilty.' Why call me something like that?"  
  
No reply. It would be too heartbreaking. This young boy seems so genuine, as if he truly doesn't know the man he once was, and is struggling to piece together his identity. How can they tell him the truth, when the truth will only show him that he is a monster?  
  
Youji stands up from his chair, moving to sit on the boy's other side, opposite Omi, and peers back at him with critical, caring eyes. "Sometimes...a name is just a name, okay? Yeah, we know you, but it's a little more complicated than you think."  
  
"Maybe...if we knew what happened before you woke up...we could understand this better." Omi comments, offering a small smile, though it does little to quell the boy's apprehensions.  
  
"I wish I knew, but the only thing remotely near me was this piece of paper, and I can't even read it." Promptly, he reaches into his other coat pocket, producing that worn slip of paper with his ill-fated spell. He doesn't recognize it now, but he doesn't recognize Weiss or his own face for that matter, either. The only thing he does remember is his name, as if haunted by it so powerfully, he could never forget it.  
  
Omi takes the paper, analyzing it from all angles, but looks quite perplexed when turning out to face his companions again. "It's no language I know. Looks pretty ancient. I might be able to track something down on my computer, but it could take a few days."  
  
"Days?!" Ken exclaims, obviously disturbed by such a thought. "What're we supposed to do till then? We don't even know what's going on!"  
  
"Guess the little guy'll just have to stay with us."  
  
Four very uncertain faces focus instantly on Youji, who seems all too casual concerning his brave statement.   
  
While young Emery is blushing in gratitude, the others are far from being on board with the idea of letting one of their most dangerous enemies spend the night. "You should be more careful playing good Samaritan, Youji." Ran warns, still unmoving from his secluded spot against the wall. "How do we know we can trust him?"  
  
"Lay off, Aya, he's just a kid." the bold playboy argues back. "You think Schwartz planned this? There's no way they'd let Schuldrich get turned into some grade school rugrat on purpose. I bet he can't even read our minds. Am I right?" he adds, turning suddenly back to Emery.  
  
The poor boy doesn't know how to respond to this odd narrative, gawking obliviously back at his older companions. "Read...your minds...?  
  
"See. Doesn't even know what I'm talking about." Youji smiles smugly, but the others aren't so easily convinced.  
  
"Let's say, just for the sake of argument, he's telling the truth." Ken begins, standing more upright behind the couch. "What if Schwartz comes looking for him? I don't wanna wake up to that Irish psychopath standing over my bed!"  
  
"Well, if he doesn't have his powers anymore, maybe they won't be able to find him." Omi puts in, tilting his head thoughtfully in reply.  
  
Naturally, in the middle of this, the red-head they are discussing is more than a little put off by the conversation. Growing more and more agitated as descriptions and creative nouns fly from the men around him, Emery soon begins to clutch at the sides of his head as if struck by a sudden, intensive migraine.  
  
"Stop!" he cries, causing his companions to immediately quiet, staring at him in concern. "What are you talking about? Schwartz? Psychopaths? Powers!? Just who the hell am I!?!"  
  
As is quite common this evening, the members of Weiss remain silent. The young German is clearly distressed by his loss of memory, and isn't reassured in the slightest being surrounded by people who seem to know who he is but refuse to give him any information.  
  
They pass their eyes over each others' blank features, seeing no need for words in coming to a joint decision. Their eyes tell each other enough as to how this should be handled.  
  
"We think it would be better for everyone if we *didn't* tell you who you are." Omi speaks on behalf of the group, while touching a kind hand to Emery's shoulder. "At least not everything. Youji said it best before; it's just too complicated. You can trust us, though, I promise. We want what's best for you."  
  
"How is keeping me from my identity what's best for me?" Emery scowls. Though, despite his anger, he doesn't shrug off that offered comfort in Omi's hand.  
  
"Believe us, chibi, it is." Youji replies in soothing tones. Hell, even skeptical Ken is wearing an expression of understanding.  
  
Emery softens in response to such caring surroundings, succumbing to the choice that has been made for him, and deciding that going along with them makes much more sense than making unnecessary enemies.  
  
The only one left who isn't content with the developing arrangement is Ran, not that such a fact is surprising. The troubled red-head isn't even remotely a happy camper, at last pushing away from the wall, and stalking towards the couch with even more venom in his voice than before. "Until we sort this out, we will allow you to stay in the guest room at the end of the hall. However, if you prove to know more about your identity than you are letting on..."  
  
"Aya-kun! Don't frighten him." Omi reprimands, jumping in before Ran can finish his threat. "If you're so worried, why don't we just take turns keeping an eye on him? One of us can take him each day until we find out what happened, and that way someone will always be watching."  
  
At first, Ran appears to be developing a biting comeback, but changes his mind mid-thought, finding Omi's suggestion admirable. It would give him a bit more piece of mind knowing that one of them would be responsible for him each day.  
  
"It's too late to worry about all this." Youji says off-handedly, stretching out his long legs. "But it is a good idea. So...who's gonna take him tomorrow?"  
  
Small silence.  
  
"I guess I could." Ken shrugs, leaning over the couch again. "He wouldn't get in the way; I'm with the kids instead of the shop. Whadda ya say, Schu...uh...Emery? Wanna help me with soccer practice? It's the best game in the world." he adds, leaning closer to Emery with a sly, playful grin.  
  
"Soccer? I don't think I know how to play that."  
  
"Even better!" Ken shouts, springing back up. "I love teaching new players. Reminds me of why I fell in love with it in the first place."  
  
Emery laughs lightly at Ken's enthusiasm. "Why not? Anything's better than sitting around with nothing to do. It...it's really nice of you to take me in like this, especially since I get the feeling we're not really friends, after all." He lowers his head, causing a shimmer of falling fire. "I don't understand you. Here you are, talking about things I've never heard of, like I'm your worst enemy, but you still give me a place to stay when I need your help. I must be an awful person if we're not on the same side..."  
  
Instantly, a large hand is placed on his shoulder, bearing much more weight than Omi's had earlier, but still with that same caring touch.  
  
Bright blue eyes dart to the side, meeting emerald, and Emery is well aware that the others around him are offering just as much support as the man beside him.  
  
"Don't worry about the past. Who knows, maybe this is a chance for you to start over." Youji comforts, sporting a dazzling smile. "Fact is, we don't know what's going on, and until we do, there's no point in you beating yourself up over things you don't even remember. Let us handle the details, and you just focus on being a kid." He stops there, having reminded himself of something. "That's right! How old are you now, anyway?"  
  
"Ummm...16, I think."  
  
"I thought so." Youji replies, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Too bad it isn't 18. Hard to have much fun with an underaged kid."  
  
The slight playfullness in Youji's last phrase stiffens Emery beneath the older man's lingering hand on his shoulder. "Errr...what do you mean by that...?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Just an observation."  
  
"Youji, stop trying to pull the innocent act. It's not working for ya." Ken snickers, swatting Youji's hand off Emery's shoulder. "Why don't we try and relax a little here? Dinner's getting cold, and me and Aya put alot of effort into it for once. How about it? Who's up for food?"  
  
Without a second thought, Omi and Emery light up in agreement, and Youji quickly follows suit after grimacing indignantly at his injured hand.   
  
Before they can make their way into the kitchen, however, Ran moves to block the doorway, arms firmly folded over his chest. "Don't get too comfortable staying here. I won't trust you as easily as they have." he sneers, looking down on Emery cruelly, and casting disgusted glances at his teammates. "Just hope you don't give me a reason to trust you any less."  
  
With those harsh words, Ran turns on his heels, entering the kitchen alone, and leaving the others behind to deal with his brutal position on the arrival of their new tenant.  
  
It is understandable that Ran isn't going to believe in the impossible willingly, but his friends are still somewhat taken aback by his words, and poor Emery is downright afraid. He can't even move to enter the kitchen himself, even though his stomach is agonizingly empty.  
  
"Don't let him bother you, Em." Ken says with a kind smile.  
  
"He can get pretty protective, but he means well." Omi adds, moving ahead to open the door, and taking the burden of being first away from the others. "You'll be safe here till everything works itself out."  
  
"And I'm sure we'll find ways to keep you entertained." puts in Youji with a wink, sidestepping past the other through the door.  
  
Emery blanches, looking worriedly at Ken and Omi to help still the blush creeping up his neck, but the boys offer little assistance, merely laughing in response.  
  
"Stick with us, Emery. I think you might be safer that way." chuckles Ken, slapping the reddening red-head on the back. "Let's just take this one day at a time."  
  
  
*****A/N***** Still in its beginning stages, but progressing. I have so many plans for Schu. I named him Emery again, like I did in my fic "Fluesternd" because I can't imagine him with any other name. Schuldaussen was pure imagination. Sounds German, though. That's good. He'll get a day with each Weiss guy alone, and so much more, but you have to read to see what comes next. Thankies for the reviews so far. So...REVIEW more! And I'll write whenever I get the chance. 


	3. 3

*****3*****  
  
  
When new days dawn, life feels all the more a miracle, and every drop of dew is like the remnants of a dream clinging to the object it feeds. With all the wonders of the world, beginnings - whether they be sunrises or second chances - are the most wondrous of all.  
  
"Omi, can you pass me those lilacs? Aya wants them closer to the front."  
  
"In a minute, Ken-kun. My hands aren't cooperating today." the demure blonde replies, fumbling with the ties of his apron.  
  
Ken chuckles, admiring his companion's expression of distress, and promptly bridges the gap between them, spinning Omi around to take control of the situation. Sighing in exasperation, Omi allows Ken to tie his apron for him, but taps his foot impatiently, annoyed at finding himself once again in the role of helpless victim. He hates being treated like a child.  
  
"You didn't have to do that, Ken-kun." he grumbles, hurrying over to grab the lilacs Ken had requested. "I could have done it myself."  
  
Shaking his head as he accepts the pots of flowers, Ken skitters off to the front. "Whatever you say, Omiitchi. Heaven forbid, someone actually tries to be polite and do something for you." he adds, oozing sarcasm. "As smart as you are, you'd think you could handle a little help once in a while. No one can do everything by themselves."  
  
"I didn't mean it like that!" Omi protests, becoming quite uncomfortable with his own cynical words. "I just don't want you guys thinking you have to take care of me. How long have we been working together now? Years? I know I was young when it all started, but I'm not a child anymore."  
  
Ken turns back, smiling in a manner almost skeptical, but gentle and understanding enough to prove to Omi there isn't anything to be getting so worked up over. No one ever intends to treat Omi like a child, they just see him as a younger brother. He is the youngest, after all. Or...at least...he was.  
  
Taking this awkward moment of unsure silence, Ken opens the shutters, releasing the light of the sun into the shop, and preparing them for an honest day's work.   
  
Omi discovers his cheeks feel surprisingly warm, standing immobile near the counter, and watching his friend's movements with mild apprehension. "Ken-kun...gomen...I don't know why I'm being so edgy today."  
  
"I do." Ken grins, stretching back his arms as he returns to the rear of the shop. "Ever think your sudden 'I'm-an-adult!' mood has something to do with our new coworker? He's about the same age you were when this all started. Maybe you're hoping you can finally pass the 'Baby Bear' torch."  
  
"Baby Bear!?!"  
  
"It's just an example."  
  
"Well...if you use *that* example...who would everyone else be?"  
  
Ken takes a moment to consider this. "I'd be 'Papa Bear', no question." he beams, straightening his posture proudly.  
  
At this, Omi tilts his head, contemplating the fairy tale for the rest of their assignments. "I guess that makes Aya-kun 'Mama Bear'." he snickers.  
  
"And Youji's 'Goldylocks'!" Ken exclaims, bursting out laughing at the image of Kudo Youji with ringlet curls and a little pink dress. "I'll never look at that story the same way again!"  
  
The giggling florists fall over each other in amusement, laughing loudly at their friends' expense. Sadly, their fun is brought to a deplorable halt as the door leading up to their apartment slams open, shuddering the walls with the force of its blow.  
  
"Where is he!?!" Ran bellows, his face red with anger, while the flames within his violet eyes glitter dangerously.  
  
"Nan desu, ka? Aya-kun, what are you talking about?" Omi asks timidly, shying away, and clinging to the counter behind him.  
  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! Schuldrich!! Where is he!?!"  
  
Turning to each other in fear, Ken and Omi stand at a loss, torn from their light-hearted moment, and tossed into the middle of a hurricane's wake.  
  
"I asked you a question!" Ran shouts, stalking forward. "Where - !"  
  
WHAM. The irate red-head is cut off rather abruptly, as the storage room door swings open, and an unsuspecting Emery bounds out of it. The poor boy's vision had been partially blocked by the large boxes he was carrying, and caught completely unaware, he ran right into the figure in front of him.  
  
Thrown to the ground, Emery lies flat on his back now, with the boxes having landed roughly on his chest, and smudges of dislodged dirt soiling his apron.   
  
Ran, more solidly stanced, had only been tossed off balance, and remains on his feet, with the malice in his expression enhanced even more than before. "You let him wander about the shop alone! Are you out of your minds!?"  
  
"K'so, Ran! Shut up already!!" Ken venomously replies, coming to the young boy's defense, and leaving the safety of the counter behind. "He is not a threat! He's just a kid, for Christ's sake. Give him a break."  
  
Far from backing down, Ran glares daggers back at his bold companion. "*You* are responsible for him today. That means you don't let him out of your sight. Understand? Child or no, I will not allow him free reign over our lives while he stays here."  
  
Sneering down at the boy still sprawled on the floor, Ran returns the frightened blue eyes staring up at him with narrowed eyes of his own. He refuses to see Emery as anyone but Schuldrich.  
  
Swiftly, Ken bends down beside the fallen boy, lifting the boxes of soil and extra pots from his chest, and offers a friendly hand to help him back to his feet. Emery smiles weakly in response to this assistance, but cannot bring himself to lift his eyes and look at Ran.   
  
How can he react when he doesn't even understand what reasons anyone could have to hate him this much?  
  
"I thought you said you had soccer practice today, Ken." the gradually calming red-head inquires, keeping his distance from the others as they sluggishly return to their work. "What are you doing in the shop?"  
  
"Practice isn't till after lunch." Ken explains casually, retaining a look of disgusted indifference. "Is there something wrong with wanting to be helpful in the mean time?"  
  
Ran grimaces, kicking himself internally for giving his friends reason to resent him, though still steadfast in his distrust of someone so recently an enemy who caused him more grief than he cares to remember. "There is nothing wrong with it. Just...be more careful. For my peace of mind, if nothing else. After all, you have enough experience with betrayal. You should know by now that people aren't always as trustworthy as you would like to believe."  
  
Moving away to acquire his own apron still hanging on one of the hooks near the back, Ran leaves the argument fueled for later development, having closed his end with a line unforgivingly uncalled for.  
  
Ken is adamant to fire off some cruel comeback in reply, but thinks better of it, snatching up his spray bottle to attack the wilting flowers in the corner.  
  
Searching for anything he can grasp to calm his nerves, Emery grabs hold of Omi's arm before the blonde can return to work as well, and beseeches him without saying a word.  
  
"Don't worry, they do this alot. It's not your fault." Omi soothes, smiling as encouragingly as he can. "Ever since Aya-kun first joined Weiss, they've had an easy time getting into fights. I think they're just too much alike, to tell you the truth. They get under each others skin because they care so much about each other. They'll be friends again before the end of the day, you'll see."  
  
Emery is somewhat put at ease, and releases Omi with a nod, watching as the three florists work about the shop, straying as far away from each other as possible.  
  
Determined to earn his keep and prove his honest desire to be something more than they seem to be expecting from him, he smoothes his apron, dusting off the remnants of dirt, ties his long, sunset hair back into a messy pony-tail, and heads for the front to attend the lilies.  
  
Just as the young boy makes his way closer to the entrance, the first customers of the day skip their way inside the shop, and instantly turn their attention on him. "Kawaii, Mariko!! Look! There's a new one!" shrieks a young girl, about Emery's age, with long brown hair and honey eyes.  
  
The girl's companion, clearly the same age, only with shorter hair the color of ebony, clutches her friend in disbelief as they corner poor Emery in their adoration. "You're right, Michiru! He's even prettier than the others!"  
  
"Oh...Ohaiyo. Can I help you...?" Emery squeaks, clutching the wall behind him as they move in uncomfortably close.  
  
The girls don't seem to recognize his anxiety, however. "Sugoi! You're even the same age as us!" Mariko swoons. "We have to know your stats! What's your name?"  
  
"...Emery..."  
  
"Birthday? Bloodtype? Flower?" Michiru rants, grinning madly.  
  
"Uhhh...birthday...? I guess it's...April 17th..." Emery stammers, surprised as he begins to recall the small details of who he is. "...AB bloodtype...I think...but...flower? I don't know what you mean."  
  
"They mean an image flower, Emmy-chan." Omi smiles, not quite coming to the rescue, but passing by with an 'it-will-be-okay' look and encouraging nod. "It's the flower that best represents you - your favorite. We all have one."  
  
Relaxing, but still feeling like a trapped rat by two very hungry kitties, Emery straightens, contemplating the idea. "Oh...I don't have one of those. What should it be? I'm not really knowledgeable about flowers."  
  
Passing his gaze out to the veteran florists nearby, Emery meets the eyes of each of his companions, hoping to get a little insight. Omi and Ken both immediately start searching in their minds for possibilities, but Ran only scowls, turning away to attend his work.  
  
Having spent far too many wasted hours in the shop - without buying anything, to Ran's dismay - the girls know the perfect flower for such a darling, young bishounen. "How about Amaryllis?" Michiru suggests, getting a little too close for comfort as she snuggles up to Emery, playing with his stray strands of hair. "You're such a shy thing, even more timid than Omi-kun."   
  
"Amaryllis is perfect, Michiru." Mariko agrees, clamping onto Emery from the other side. "Now he is an official member of the Koneko."  
  
This, by far, is the final straw. Upon those authoritative words, as if the girls have some stock in the running of the flower shop, Ran has had quite enough of their loitering about.   
  
Stomping back to the front of the room, with his usual death glare in place, he towers over them menacingly. "Stop harassing our workers. This is a business." he growls, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "If you're not going to buy something, get out!!"  
  
One might think the girls would be put off by this. However, they are rather used to Ran's harsh words - a phrase he has used many times before - and think little of it, merely deciding it is time they were on their way.  
  
Belting out a few hasty good-byes, the girls slip out swiftly, avoiding Ran at all costs, and leave the boys to their sweet solitude. At least, until the next bunch ambles in.  
  
"Arigato...Aya-san...they were a bit too much for me." Emery smiles weakly, blinking up at Ran in gratitude.  
  
"I didn't come to your rescue." Ran snaps, glaring with the same rigid emotion he had bestowed upon the giggling girls. "They are always in here causing distractions. I don't need them using *you* to make more. Now, if you really want to be of some use around here, get back to work."  
  
Once again, Ran turns on his heels, busying himself in whatever ways he can, and leaves Emery to the bitter truth of his harsh, biting words.  
  
The poor boy would almost prefer having the girls back; nothing is as devastating as that cold, violet stare.  
  
"Don't worry about distractions, Ran." Ken begins, smirking in a manner far from anything kind or amusing. "We're about to leave for soccer practice anyway. Ne, Emery? Ready to go?"  
  
Crystalline eyes of perfect blue dart to the side, catching Ken's glance, but look near tears by the shimmer of liquid emotion quivering beneath his eyelids. "Hai...getting out of here sounds wonderful."  
  
Ken smiles for real this time, lifting his apron over his head, and Emery does the same, both ecstatic at the thought of being anywhere but where they are.   
  
Smiling cheerfully as always, even amidst so much animosity, Omi offers a farewell and good luck, not having to specify which comment is meant for who, and whistles away as he continues making arrangements.   
  
Holding still and unapproachable, Ran watches the pair head for the door as well, not failing to catch Ken's disgusted grimace thrown back at him, nor Emery's wavering look of sorrow. It doesn't matter to him, though. They can think whatever they want about him. It isn't as if he became an assassin to make friends. Why worry about keeping any...?  
  
Unless it is the only thing you have left.  
  
"Emery..." Ken smiles, patting the boy on the back as they head out the door. "...I guarantee you'll like soccer. You can take out all your aggressions in just one hour of practice. Just imagine the ball is someone you're not too fond of at the moment. That's what I do when I need to let off a little steam. There's a certain red-head I've used as target practice more times than I can count."  
  
The only reply the younger boy gives is a gentle chuckle, but it puts both of them at ease more than they have been all day.  
  
  
*****A/N*****   
I had planned to get to soccer practice in this chapter, but I thought I'd just post and give you something. Hope you're still liking, and I think I've settled on which pairing this will be, though you'll have to find out for yourselves. Thanks for all the reviews, and keep sending 'em! I love feedback! Ja!! By the way, Amaryllis means 'timidity and pride' perfect for both versions of Schu-honey, don't you think? Usually, I give him Tigerlily, but this just fit so much better for my fic. Also, the b-day and bloodtype I chose to match his personality, since no one knows the truth. I think I did well. Any opinions? 


	4. 4

*****4*****  
  
  
"Break left! Now right! Pass to Seishu! Good job!" Ken hollers, on the balls of his feet as he watches from the sidelines of their makeshift soccer field.  
  
A mass of young boys, all pre-teen and highly energetic, bound from one side to the other, and Emery is right in the middle, joining in on every play.  
  
Working up quite an impressive sweat, the young German has been playing the entire time, learning the basics with Ken's hyperactive team. Truth be told, his level of skill started out about the same as the younger boys around him, but he is advancing incredibly fast, dribbling the ball from foot to foot like it was old habit.  
  
"All right, everyone, bring it in!" Ken grins, gesturing for the youngster handling the ball to toss it his direction, and waiting as the horde of kids races in from the field. "That's all for today. You guys did great. Even helped teach my new friend a few things. I'm proud of you. Now, get on home, and I'll see you next week."  
  
"Ja ne, Ken-niisan! We love you!!"  
  
"You, too, Emmy-chan! You're the best!"  
  
Watching as the boys run off to find their parents - who are gradually arriving to pick their children up - Ken walks over to Emery and pats him good-naturedly on the back. "Not bad, Em. You've got even faster reflexes than me. It's a shame you didn't get into sports earlier."  
  
Emery blushes, still breathing hard, and plops down in the grass, stretching his neck from side to side. "It's murder keeping up with those kids, though. How do you do it every week?"  
  
"You kidding? I love those little guys! The bouncier, the better."  
  
"I'll take your word for it, Ken-san." Emery smiles, taking a long breath of fresh, Spring air. Soon, Ken joins him in the grass, and the two sit together, basking in the peace of finished practice and warm sunshine. After a few contented moments, Emery tilts his head, glancing over at Ken with a somewhat unsure expression. "Do you...really think I have fast reflexes...?"  
  
"The fastest." Ken beams. "But I'm not surprised. You've always had that weird, superhuman speed thing going on. I couldn't even land a punch when we used to fight Schwa...uhh...I mean..."  
  
Instantly, Ken bites his tongue, ashamed at speaking so casually about topics Emery not only doesn't understand, but couldn't possibly enjoy hearing about.  
  
"Gomen...ignore me. I'm just rambling."  
  
"No, I want to hear." Emery contradicts, sitting up straighter, and inching closer to Ken in the grass. "I know you're afraid to tell me who I am, but it can't hurt to give away the little things, ne? Can't you answer just a few, small questions?"  
  
Caught in the act of a situation he should never have gotten himself into, Ken nibbles on his lower lip nervously, leaning back on his elbows, and debating his rather limited options. "Ran would be really pissed if I did that. The others, too. It was a group decision for *your* benefit, ya know?"  
  
"I know. But...it's who I am." the younger boy sighs, appearing deeply troubled - the perfect magic to break Ken's resolve. "What if you had to go through life without a clue about who you were? Wouldn't you want to know things?"  
  
"...well..." Ken ponders, swiftly caving. "I suppose it wouldn't be a disaster if I answered a couple questions."  
  
Victory!  
  
"What do you wanna know?"  
  
Emery takes a moment to think about that, and then turns immediately back to Ken, smiling even larger than he had out on the field. "I know I have another name: Schuldrich. But...by the way you've been talking about me...all of you...I get the feeling I'm supposed to be...older, too. So...how old am I?"  
  
"...errr...Youji's age." Ken admits, after a moment of hesitation. "Around 22. You're not quite as tall as he is, but you're bigger than me. Skinny though, and super fast. Heh. I guess you're just kinda miniaturized now."  
  
Nodding along, Emery grasps this opportunity for control over the conversation, hoping he can con a little more out of Ken without the brunette realizing he is giving too much away. "And...my...voice?"  
  
"Deeper, I guess. But basically the same."  
  
"How about habits or...hobbies?"  
  
"I think you might smoke a little, but not nearly as much as Youji."  
  
Crinkling his nose in disgust, Emery recoils and shakes his head vigorously. "Yuck. I hate cigarette smoke. I wonder what made me start doing that."  
  
"I've often asked Youji the very same thing, but I don't think there's an intelligent enough answer." Ken replies matter-of-factly. "Hey, look on the bright side. Now you can quit."  
  
Still with his usual large and carefree smile, Ken gets to his feet after that, scooping up the ball in the process, and moving to collect his bag a few feet away. The worn out young man appears to be getting ready to head home, but poor Emery isn't ready to join him.   
  
Promptly, the flustered boy searches for a way to continue their conversation, even as it is quickly slipping through his pale, thin fingers. "Matte, Ken-san! We don't have to go back yet, do we? I have more questions."  
  
"Gomen ne, Emery. I've already said more than I should just by saying anything at all." Ken chides, and then swings his bag over his shoulder to emphasize his intentions on leaving.  
  
This particular sports bag is one Ken has had forever - navy blue with a few scattered signatures from some of his favorite players - and as old as it is getting these days, he refuses to buy a new one.   
  
Sadly, the zipper has been starting to tear recently, and the bag wasn't completely closed when he picked it up from the ground, causing a few things to tumble out and land softly in the grass.  
  
Emery has gotten to his feet by now, somewhat dejectedly, and bends to help pick the items up: a stray sock, a stop watch, and a tattered pair of fingerless gloves.  
  
Those worn-in, black gloves hold more intrigue than anything. Made of leather and soft cotton, they look deeply loved, most likely something Ken has had for years.  
  
"These are interesting, Ken-san. What are they for?" Emery inquires, handing the sock and stop watch back to his companion, but hanging on to the gloves to admire them more closely.  
  
"They're just my old soccer gloves."  
  
"Soccer gloves?"  
  
"More for show than anything." Ken explains. "They were a fashion statement, I guess. A friend gave them to me."  
  
Emery is quite puzzled by this, but gently gives the gloves back, despite his deepening curiosity. "Oh. How come you don't wear them then?"  
  
Fingering the fabric in his own hands now, Ken hesitates, staring intently at the gloves as if they hold the answer to Emery's question within themselves.   
  
They don't. But maybe he doesn't either.   
  
"It would feel too weird to wear them again. That friend...was never really my friend after all, and I don't play soccer professionally anymore."  
  
"But...they're still in your bag. Why keep them if you don't use them?"  
  
Small silence again; he had never really thought about it. They belong in that bag, surrounded by all his gear, and there to stare back at him from the bottom of the pile whenever he opens it up.   
  
There isn't a logical reason.  
  
"I keep them because...I can't bring myself to get rid of 'em." Ken whispers, suddenly melancholy, and knocked a bit off balance by being brought to the attention of something he had never really faced.  
  
Without another word, he tosses the gloves into the bag, throws Emery a half-hearted grin, and leads the way back to their ride. A motorcycle may be a little cramped seating two people when it was only built for one, but hey, it's the only way to travel.  
  
  
-----  
  
  
"Aya-kun!! I have to run upstairs a minute! Be right back!" Omi calls towards the storage room, taking quick survey over the empty shop.   
  
They are still open, but business has been slow for almost twenty minutes, and Ran should be done in the back soon enough, giving the small blonde time to check on supper without anyone slipping in unnoticed.  
  
Just as Omi dashes out of sight, however, two people *do* slip in, and they are both quite taken aback by finding the shop unattended.  
  
"This is creepy." Ken mentions slowly, studying the space around him as he and Emery enter through the front door. "Where is everyone? I've got a bad feeling about this. I better check upstairs." Turning to Emery, he looks suddenly very serious, but puts on a confident resolve to soothe any fears the boy might have. "Wait down here and watch over the shop. I'll be back before you know it, but yell for me if anything happens, okay?"  
  
Emery nods, not soothed in the least, but sure enough of himself to allow Ken to leave him alone without protesting. Once the brunette is gone, though, his youthful imagination begins to get the better of him.  
  
Turning briskly to the right, he is certain he heard something in the corner. Yes. No. Maybe not. It might have been the wind, but it might have also been some evil villain waiting to devour him should he venture too far from the light. How can he be sure?  
  
It isn't terribly dark out yet - almost supper time, and nearly closing - but his perception isn't cooperating when the possibility of something unpleasant lurking in the shadows seems so very possible indeed.  
  
CRASH! "Norou!!" growls a menacing voice from somewhere near the back of the shop.  
  
Emery is instantly frozen to the spot, breathing heavily as the voice continues, low and vaguely familiar, though too distant to make out completely. "Is...someone there...?" he breathes, inching towards the room he believes the intruder to be lurking in. "...you better leave before...my friends get back..." he threatens, but his voice is too soft for even himself to hear.  
  
Footsteps. The villain is heading for the door as well, and Emery is right in front of it. What should he do? He doesn't have any weapons, and if he calls for Ken now it might force the intruder to run for it. His only option is to pray help comes in time.  
  
The door begins to open, revealing a shadowy figure, and with a mighty shriek, Emery throws himself on the darkened form, sending both of them tumbling to the floor.  
  
It is a valiant effort put forth by the young German, but not nearly enough to overcome such a strong opponent. Soon, Emery finds himself flat on his back, at the mercy of the man pinning him to the floor.  
  
"You!" the intruder screams. "I warned them about this! I knew it! I knew you couldn't be trusted!"  
  
Shit! This is no intruder - though Emery now realizes the truth all too late. The man painfully holding him down...is Fujimiya Ran.   
  
"A...Aya-san...I didn't mean to...I thought -"  
  
"You thought you could take me by surprise?! Thought you could get rid of me without the others around to catch you?!" Ran barks, roughly pulling Emery up from the ground as he gets to his feet, and forcing the boy back against the wall. "I'm not so stupid as to be taken in by your lies, Schwartz." he snarls, glaring so darkly, his eyes are almost black.  
  
"My name is Emery!" cries out a panicked reply. "Let me go...bitte...it hurts...I didn't mean to attack you...it was an accident..."  
  
"Do you take me for a fool!?!"  
  
His back aching as it presses into the wall, Emery is no match for the grip on his narrow shoulders, and the tears springing to his eyes have no effect on the man accusing him.  
  
"I should never have allowed you into our home! You deserve nothing but death for the crimes you have committed!" Ran rambles on, so infused with anger, even he would be frightened of himself if he had the means to see what he is doing. "I should kill you now...make you pay for all of it...and for whatever intentions you have here, toying with our lives -"  
  
"TASUKETE!!" Emery screams with every ounce of strength left in him, cutting Ran off, and returning in vain to address him directly. "Hate me all you want, but you're wrong about me and my intentions. I'm just me - Emery. I thought you were a burglar or something, damnit! Please...believe me...don't -"  
  
"Aya-kun!"  
  
"What the hell are you doing!?!"  
  
Almost too close to call, Omi and Ken appear from upstairs, dashing in to pry Ran away. Words of accusation and fury fly like a whirlwind from both young men, while tears pour unabashed down Emery's face as he sinks to the ground, hugging himself around the shoulders.  
  
Omi sinks down beside the trembling boy, gently touching a hand to his shoulder. "Did he hurt you?"  
  
"...I...he..." Emery tries, but is shaking too much to speak the right words.  
  
"Damnit, Ran, what were you thinking!?! He's 16 years old and you're barking out death threats?!" Ken bellows in disgust, glaring at Ran as the red-head begins to back away from them. "For the last time, he isn't Schuldrich, okay? He's a kid! The same age your sister was before you lost her!"  
  
"Don't you dare talk about my sister!!" Ran bites back, halting his retreat, and voicing his words just as adamantly as ever. "If it weren't for people like *him*, I never would have lost her in the first place!!"  
  
Turning his back on them, Ran storms up the stairs into the apartment, not even thinking of looking back.  
  
Gathering his nerves, Emery eventually is brought back to his feet, with significant help from his companions, but even on steady ground he finds himself wondering if he can keep surviving these encounters when Ran is so set against him.   
  
Surviving the day is one thing, but surviving the night is becoming harder and harder with every moment he breathes.  
  
  
*****A/N*****   
  
  
Hmmm...odd chapter, but I think I like it. Man is Ran good at overreacting, but I understand his anger and why he is placing it on Schu. Anyways, I'm sorry it took so long again for a new chapter, but I'll try to do better. I hope you're all still enjoying this, but review so I know you are. :-) Ja! 


	5. 5

*****5*****  
  
  
Even in the midst of dark and dreary surroundings, masked by sunshine and brilliant smiles, a person can discover what being true to themselves really means. It isn't always easy, being who we are, doing what we have to do, but sometimes, by some miracle, it happens. Right before our eyes, it happens, and we couldn't be more thankful that it does.  
  
Such a shame it takes so long to even come close.  
  
"Are you ready for a day with me, Emmy-chan?" Omi beams, walking with young Schuldrich down the apartment stairs and into the shop. "I thought a nice quiet day inside would be good for you. Besides..." he adds, looking around carefully before pulling in close to whisper. "Aya-kun has deliveries today, so he won't be around much."  
  
Emery smiles with the breath of a blush on his cheeks, but says nothing. It had been an unsettled night with much tossing and turning after his encounter with Fujimiya Ran, and he isn't in any mood to relive it.  
  
Already moving about, opening doors and windows, Ken is bustling around the shop, and offers a joyful wave and greeting to his young companions. Perhaps thing won't be so bad after all, as long as there isn't too much excitement today.  
  
"Yo, minna! Beautiful morning, ne?" Youji calls, far too chipper compared to his normal demeanor, especially since he had been mysteriously missing most of the day yesterday. "Hmmm...Ran out and about...Ken opening up...Omi tying back his apron...and our young apprentice hard at work! How is life treatin' ya, chibi?"  
  
"It isn't life we're worried about." Ken grumbles, narrowing his ocean eyes. The pot in his hands visibly begins to crack beneath his tense grip.  
  
"What do you mean by that, KenKen?"  
  
"He means..." Omi begins in explanation. "...*who* we are worried about, for Emery's sake, anyway...is Aya. They had a little run in last night."  
  
Deeply intrigued, Youji moves to block Emery's path as the young boy makes his way to the back of the shop. "You okay? I'd hate think that Aya-the-ice-queen got the better of you. He tends to do that alot. Didn't hurt you, I hope?"  
  
Emery shakes his head in a ripple of loose, orange waves, and slips quickly passed the older man standing in his way. Right now, the very last thing he would like to talk about is his frightening stand-off the night before.  
  
Taking the hint, Youji keep his mouth shut concerning what happened, even if he would very much like to know as many details as there are to tell. Nevertheless, he always knows how to brighten his spirits again, and he isn't all that bad at brightening other people's either.  
  
"Take off that apron, Emery. You're not staying with Omi today." the sly playboy grins, advancing on the young German once again. "You're coming with me."  
  
"Matte, Youji-kun!" Omi cries protectively. "Emery needs to relax today. We can't have you sneaking him into some sleazy bar or running him ragged all night."  
  
Attempting to look deeply injured by such an accusation, the tall blonde holds his hands up in defense. "I'd never do anything of the sort, Omiitchi. A quiet drive is all I have in mind. It isn't your decision, anyway. Come on, Emery, how do you feel about spending the day with me?"  
  
Feeling quite cornered now, Emery stands rigid, having tensed more and more as Youji drew closer, and at the idea of being alone with him for too long. It isn't that he doesn't trust him, he's just not sure how much he actually does.  
  
"I...guess it...wouldn't be so bad..."  
  
"Then it's settled!" Youji commands, spinning Emery around to undo the young boy's apron himself. He isn't met with much protest, but how could he be when the poor thing is too frightened to move? "Don't worry, I'll have you back by dinner time." he expresses loudly, and then pulls the small red-head almost inappropriately close, whispering beside his ear. "That is...unless we find something truly constructive to keep us occupied."  
  
Suddenly, Emery fears he has made a terrible mistake, but his naive politeness forced him not to object before, and now there is no way out.  
  
"Ja ne, Ken! Omi! Don't wait up!" Youji calls happily, while practically dragging Emery through the door. The panicked face the young boy looks back at the others with is rather heartbreaking, but they are gone before Ken and Omi can do anything to protest.  
  
Outside, it is a lovely day - subtle sunshine, marshmallow clouds, and just enough of a breeze to keep it from getting too hot. Inside Youji's signature "Super 7" car, however, it is far too warm for Emery, feeling his entire face is becoming more and more like the color of his hair as they speed down the street.  
  
"Relax, chibi, I don't bite." Youji winks, noticing that the boy is pressed as close to the other side of the car as he can get. "That can change upon request, of course, but we have all day to get to that."  
  
Emery's bright blue eyes dart nervously to Youji's alluring grin, and he finds it hard to take a deep breath, let alone reply.  
  
Tossing back his golden locks with the will of the wind, Youji laughs heartily, and reaches a hand to rest momentarily on Emery's knee. "No need to be afraid; I'm just having a little fun at your expense." And just as swiftly, the hand is removed, and Emery can't help releasing a loud and trembling sigh to be free of it. "I figured we could drive around awhile and see if anything looks familiar. Then later...if you're up for it...we'll hit one of my favorite clubs. Nothing too rowdy, I promise. And don't worry about being underage. I'm good friends with the bouncers there. They won't give us any trouble."  
  
Gradually, Emery finds himself relaxing, despite the odd shiver that had shot up his leg upon Youji's touch. He isn't completely at ease, but he isn't all out afraid anymore, either. More than likely, Youji's advances are probably more talk than anything, so there is no need to worry. Yet. Besides, getting a lay of the land sounds like a wonderful idea.  
  
Very little of the scenery appears familiar as they drive, but Youji's constant narration helps Emery understand more and more the country he has found himself in. Soon enough, the conversation is no longer one-sided, and he realizes he is rather enjoying their afternoon together.  
  
"Arigato...Youji-san...I really appreciate you taking me out." Emery smiles, watching as streets they have seen before reappear. Their drive is coming to an end. "I don't remember any more than I did before, but it was nice to get away from the shop for awhile."  
  
"I figured you'd loosen up eventually." Youji grins back, slowing down and searching for a place to park in front of a brightly lit building with a sign that reads 'Yoru no Hinan-jo'. Rightly named, and certainly Youji's favorite night spot. "Now we can really loosen up, chibi. You're gonna love this place."  
  
The engine is brought to a dead stop almost right in front of the club, and as Youji pulls out the keys, the jingle catches Emery's attention. His eyes focus on the key*chains* more than anything - one advertising the shop, much like their business card, a small figurine of a buxom woman in a bikini, and the model of a white car, very similar to the one he is riding in now.  
  
"Where did you get that made?" the young German inquires, indicating the miniaturized model. "Did you have it done specially to match your car?"  
  
"*My* car?" Youji laughs, toying with the keychain between his fingers. "This isn't a copy of *my* car, chibi, but I guess you don't know your cars that well, do you?. *This* masterpiece...this is a '57 Chevy convertible. Best car ever made. I used to think I'd do anything to get one."  
  
There is an unmistakable wave of nostalgia that crosses Youji's features, and Emery's curiosity gets the better of him. "Why didn't you?"  
  
"I couldn't. I don't have the right."  
  
"...the right? I don't understand."  
  
Youji's smile dims, and his gaze loses itself within the details of his cherished model car, so simple, but so much more than it seems. "I used to be a Private "I". Years ago. Me and my partner, we had so many plans for after we made it big, and getting this car together was one of 'em. But...she died. She died before we could do any of the things we planned to do. This keychain...it was a gift...something she gave me to remind me of all the promises we made. It just never seemed right to get the real thing without her. Don't know why I've hung on to this old thing for so long..."  
  
For ages it seems, Emery sits there watching his companion without a word spoken between them, until a sudden jolt signals Youji's return from the discomfort of his memories.  
  
"Enough melancholy, chibi. Time to hit the town!"  
  
  
-----  
  
  
There is little doubt Emery has no clue as to what he should expect from a night with Kudo Youji, but he won't have to wait very long to find out.   
  
The club is dark, with flashing lights coming out of the corners, the ceiling, and the stage far up front. Bodies cram together on the dance floor, whether the couples and groups are of the opposite sex or not, and there are very few open spots at the bar. Luckily, Youji's influence over the waitresses prove just as successful as it had been over the bouncer at the door, and they are seated at a booth in the back.  
  
Despite Youji's stance against it, Emery orders a Shirley Temple, and is quite content to keep his blood-alcohol level at next to nothing. Youji, naturally, orders a screwdriver, and is even more content to allow his to swiftly climb up.  
  
"Uhhh...Youji-san...should you be drinking so much?" Emery begins slowly, after Youji's third glass, not wanting to cause any undue friction. "I don't remember if I know how to drive or not, and it's dangerous if -"  
  
"Don't worry, Emery, I wouldn't dream of driving." Youji dismisses, tossing back a hearty swallow of his drink. "They don't mind if I leave my car overnight, and the shop is just down the street from here."  
  
Oddly enough, Emery isn't all that reassured. He trusts Youji far more than he did before, and they are having a good time, but alcohol rarely makes an evening less complicated. In fact, it has a tendency to make it more.  
  
"How about a dance, chibi?" Youji asks suddenly, tugging on Emery's delicate hand. "Sitting here all night won't get us anywhere."  
  
Instantly, the younger boy's eyes grow three sizes larger. "Da..dance? But...we...we're both -"  
  
"What? Men? You wouldn't let that get in the way, would you?"  
  
"I...I don't know. I guess...not."  
  
"Then come on!"  
  
Emery is semi-willingly dragged onto the dance floor, feeling more than a little intimidated by so many unfamiliar faces around him, but Youji's insistence and the beat of the music helps him regain his nerves until he is easily moving with the rhythm.   
  
Playfully pushing Youji away whenever the eager man gets too close, they spend a good amount of time in motion, but the younger boy's body isn't used to so much exertion at such a late hour, and they are forced to head home before too long. That is, after resting a bit more in their booth, and after Youji had consumed a few more drinks.  
  
True to his word, Youji leads the way down the few blocks to "Kitty in the House", and stumbles inside with Emery following behind. The shop is dark, but they make it to the apartment door and up the stairs, careful not to make much noise since the others appear to be in bed already. Being in bed himself sounds perfectly wonderful to Emery, and with a smile and word of gratitude, he turns to retire to his room.  
  
"Hang on, chibi. Don't be slipping away now." Youji commands, taking hold of Emery's hands and leading the boy to sit beside him on the couch. Their surrounding are still veiled in shadows with only a light in the kitchen and what is coming from outside to offer them illumination. "We've had fun tonight, ne? You were a little squeamish at first, but you enjoyed yourself, I think."  
  
"It *was* fun, Youji-san, but I'm really tired. I just want to go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning -"  
  
"Morning? But I want your company now." Youji grins, his eyes somewhat glazed from the alcohol, while he slides closer to Emery on the couch and leans over him, pushing him down into the cushions. "I want *you*...chibi. That isn't asking too much, ne?"  
  
"...n...nani...?" Emery breathes, his heart beating painfully fast as he pushes at Youji to keep him away. "Stop teasing...Youji-san. I just...want to go to bed..."  
  
Purring beside his ear, Youji laughs lightly, running a hand through Emery's long, sunset hair. "Then come to bed with me. I guarantee you'll have more fun that way."  
  
"I think I'd...rather sleep..."  
  
"And *I* think...you'll change your mind..."  
  
By now, Emery is flat on his back on the couch with Youji on top of him, gently, but firmly, holding him down. The poor boy can't move, can't think. He doesn't want this, but his words don't seem enough to change his companions mind.  
  
While Youji's lips brush the young red-head's neck, strong hands trail down his sides, down the length of his legs, and trail up again, forcing shivers up Emery's spine. Those lips move on, tasting the flesh of his small ears, his cheek, and to his own trembling lips where they press harder, deeper. Deep enough for him to soon feel Youji's silky tongue searching for his own, and he almost wants to bite down just to get it away.  
  
Those straying hands have since moved to his chest and further down, slipping up under his shirt. His stomach churns with a million angry butterflies devouring him from within. Every touch is too much. Every renewed kiss is more unbearable. He wants to scream, but can't. He wants to cry, but finds he already is.  
  
"...don't fight so much...chibi...if you let yourself relax...it is so much more enjoyable..."  
  
"Youji-san...I don't...want to do this..." Emery pleads, finding a voice in the freedom of his released lips. "...yameru...please..."  
  
Perhaps the boy's voice has grown so soft Youji does not hear him, but whether he does or not, he doesn't listen. Those same, large hands slide down again, pawing at the waist of Emery's pants, and all too soon have them undone.  
  
(...nein...bitte halt...bitte...)  
  
Emery flinches as those hands stray further, beneath the elastic of his somewhat exposed boxers, and further yet until...  
  
"Youji! Get away from him! Now!!"  
  
Until a blessing from the powers that be stops their advance with the harshness of a deep, angry voice. Youji's hands free themselves quickly, but before he can move away, another pair of strong hands pull him from the couch, throwing him roughly to the floor.  
  
"What are you thinking?! Drunk off your ass again, for God's sake?! He's a child!"  
  
If Emery wasn't seeing this with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe it. Fujimiya Ran has come to his rescue, after attacking the boy himself the night before, and even in the darkness he is a threatening image, whether you are on the receiving end of his anger or not.  
  
"What the hell is the matter with you, forcing yourself on him like some -"  
  
"Shut up, Aya!" Youji cuts in, struggling clumsily to his feet. "What's it to you? Just because he's not of age doesn't mean he's a child. If he want this then -"  
  
"If *he* wants this?!" Ran screams back, grabbing Youji by the front of the shirt to pull him menacingly close. "He's scared out of his mind, and you're too drunk to see it! Use your head! How would you feel tomorrow, knowing you had taken him against his will? Go to bed before you hate yourself in the morning."  
  
With that, Ran pushes Youji away, sending the blonde stumbling backwards, before regaining his footing and looking as if his mind has been forced to clear a bit as well. "Oh God...what was I doing? Forgive me...Emery...I...I didn't realize..."  
  
"It's all right...Youji-san..." Emery mends with a weak smile, sitting himself up on the couch. "I know you'd never hurt me on purpose."  
  
"I am so sorry..." Youji breathes, despite the comforting words the boy has offered him. "Maybe...maybe sleep *is* a good idea."  
  
Dispiritedly, Youji gives his goodnights, and then drags himself down the hallway, leaving Emery and Ran alone in the living room. There is a long pause of silence, with Emery huddled on the couch and Ran hovering beside it, but eventually, Emery decides to brave the most difficult obstacle he has yet to face.  
  
Ran.  
  
"Aya-san...I...I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come..."  
  
"Don't thank me." Ran bites back, slightly less hostile than usual, but not by much. "He would never have been able to forgive himself. *That* is why I did what I did. It wasn't for you."  
  
"I understand...but...I was so scared...I...I'm just glad you were...here..."  
  
"Hn." the stoic red-head replies. "Get to bed. You can do deliveries with Omi tomorrow. He still hasn't uncovered anything to help us deal with you, but one of these days he will, and all this will become a memory you will be more than happy to forget."  
  
Heading for his own bedroom now, Ran turns for the hallway, but stops dead when hearing the soft, barely perceptible whisper that rises up from the couch behind him.  
  
"...danke..." Emery offers in his native tongue, hoping to hide the meaning. Whether he is successful or not, he had to say it, even if Ran told him not to.  
  
Unbelievably, a voice nearly as soft and deceiving itself replies. "...do itashimashite...Emery..."  
  
And dear Emery can't help smiling, brilliantly bright from ear to ear. After all the chaotic events of the day, it hasn't turned out so bad, and maybe there is hope yet for tomorrow.  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
Not bad for months outta practice, huh? Sorry again about being gone for...ever, but I'm back and I'll try my hardest to finish this.   
  
Next is Omi's day with Emery, so be patient and we'll see what happens. I hope you liked the evil moments in here, especially you Y/S fans, but who knows how this will turn out.  
  
Ja ne, for now! 


	6. 6

*****6*****  
  
  
Daylight is a peculiar thing. It begins as a signal for morning, and yet it is not always ready to awake when we are. Once in a lonesome while we rise to darkness, and when a heavy heart weighs down our worn bodies, rising out of that darkness is nearly impossible.  
  
Emery doesn't blame Youji entirely for what happened the night before, but he found himself tossing and turning all night with the memory of what almost happened, and is now clanking about in the kitchen, desperate for something to take his mind off the nightmares he had been afflicted with.  
  
"What's with all the noise, chibi? Some of us are trying to sleep."  
  
Speak of the devil, or rather...dream of him. Emery had had enough of that for one night, but facing the real thing suddenly seems far worse. "Yo...Youji-san..." he stammers, spinning around to face the advancing blonde. He is already backed against the sink, but it presses more and more into his spine the closer Youji gets.  
  
"Damnit, Emery, please don't look so scared." the deflated playboy grimaces, stopping a few feet in front of the boy to keep his distance. "I couldn't even look at myself in mirror this morning. What I did...what I could have done...it was wrong."  
  
"You...don't have to apologize again." Emery blushes, relaxing a bit now. "I already forgave you."  
  
"That doesn't excuse it. I should have stopped when you asked me to, but I didn't. Too much to drink or not, once isn't enough to say how sorry I am."  
  
This is too much, even if Youji feels it is not. The seriousness on his face, the remorse, the way he can't meet his eyes to Emery's, is proof enough that the boy's dreams had tormented him in vain.   
  
Villains veil themselves in pleasing disguises, but sometimes the opposite is just as true, albeit unintentional. Last night Youji appeared as a monster, but in the end he is just a man.  
  
"Then I forgive you again, Youji-san." Emery grins, stepping away from the sink. "I'll admit, I was really scared for awhile. It's not that I think it's wrong for...well...for two guys to be...ummm...intimate...but I don't think I'm...that I'm ready for..."  
  
"You don't have to say anything, chibi." Youji intercedes, seeing as how the poor boy's face is going quite red in his attempt at explaining. "Let's just agree to be friends."  
  
Welcoming the gentle hand that slowly reaches to grasp his shoulder, Emery grins even wider, more than willing to forget last night ever happened.  
  
"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you..." Youji continues. "...just say the word. I can't think of anything that would be too much after making such an ass out of myself."  
  
"Anything...?" repeats the young red-head, his crystalline-blue eyes glittering as if they have found hidden magic in the word. "If you'll do anything, then I already know exactly what I want." He pauses just enough to perk Youji's curiosity. "What I want...is for you to answer a few questions about who I am." comes a sly command, and the unfortunate assassin is now caught in a trap he built for himself.  
  
At long last Youji smiles, admiring the boy's cunning, and with a quick glance behind him to be sure the others are still safely asleep, he agrees. "Fire away."  
  
Now, this takes some thinking on Emery's part. He has already found out a few details to add to what he already knew, but the questions he chooses now must be chosen with extreme care.  
  
Never take for granted gifts you are given, especially if you do not know how long they will last.  
  
"Question one is...well...you guys talked about me being able to read minds that first night...and...I...I don't really understand how that could be possible."  
  
Youji shakes his head; of course the boy would ask him about this. "It *is* possible. Believe me. You were an empath...or...telepath. One of them has to do with emotions, the other with thoughts, but I'm pretty sure you used to handle both. Basically, you knew what people were thinking, what they were feeling, and you could manipulate their behavior. Don't let the novelty fool you, though, I've heard it isn't all that nice a gift when you get right down to it."  
  
Not much of a shock here; Emery had already figured most of that out on his own, at least after what he had heard the others talking about before. Still, he feels a little better now having the truth set in solid foundation.  
  
"Okay...then...what about the others?" the boy questions next. The two of them have gradually moved to the kitchen table and are now sitting across from one another. "You talked about others who were on my... 'team'...so...who are they?"  
  
This question is where it gets harder for Youji to answer. The reason Weiss had originally decided to keep certain things from Emery was partially to save him from the grief of knowing the truth. But more than that, they didn't want to risk bringing back too many memories that might change the boy into his old persona before they can figure out what is going on.  
  
No one wants to spoil someone else's second chance.  
  
"Maybe you better ask me something else, chibi."  
  
"You said you owed me." Emery counters. "I don't want to take advantage of having you make this up to me, so I promise I won't ask to know anything else...for now. But, please, I need to know this. Who are they?"  
  
In front of him, fidgeting on the tabletop, Youji stares intently at his hands, debating over how he should approach this. But no matter how he chooses to begin, there is no easy way to reveal the information his companion wishes to know. "They...are Schwartz. Black as we are White. The exact opposite of Weiss, and everything we stand for." he begins, still gazing transfixed at his own long fingers tapping on the table. "There are four members, just like us, and each of us pairs up with one of them whenever we fight. Yes, fight, but since you didn't ask *that* question, I'm not going into it."  
  
A small shadow crosses Emery's face, but he understands, and is content for now to listen to what is willingly given, even if it isn't everything he desires to know.  
  
"Omi faces off against little Naoe Nagi. A young Japanese boy who can move things with his mind. It would be an incredibly helpful power if he used it for good. But...he doesn't." Youji adds coolly, and after only the smallest of pauses, continues. "Ken fights Farfarello, the Irish psychopath you also had the pleasure of hearing us talk about that first night. He doesn't really have a power, but some believe he is immune to pain. How's that for scary?"  
  
Swallowing hard, the young boy hopes Youji doesn't notice his increasing unease. A part of him already regrets his choice of questioning. Maybe he doesn't want to know the truth.  
  
"As for me, I'm the lucky one who gets partnered with *you*. I've yet to get a good shot at you, though. You're so damn fast and always messing with my mind, I can't even think straight."  
  
His heart sinking low in his chest, Emery begins to pale now, imagining what it must have been like to fight this person he now considers a friend. Weiss must be truly amazing if they can put such memories aside and take an enemy in from the cold.  
  
"Finally, there's Ran. He faces Brad Crawford, an American jackass with a stick up his ass the size of a skyscraper. Crawford was your boss, the leader, and from what we've seen, the rest of you would do just about anything he told you to." Pause. Slowly, Youji lifts his emerald eyes from the comfort of his hands and stares with far too much serious emotion back into Emery's troubled face. "That answer your question? It isn't even half the story, but it's all you're getting. If you aren't scared yet, you would be if I told you the rest of it."  
  
Fair enough. Even if he truly did want to know more - and a part of him still does - Emery wouldn't ask for anything but what he has been given.  
  
The gloom hanging low above the linoleum, and deep in the hearts of both young men, settles for only a short time before light conversation draws it away, and eventually the other members of Weiss arise and make their way into the kitchen as well.  
  
Omi and Ken are their usual bouncy selves, but if it wasn't generally expected, Ran's silence would have given him away as the one person out of place. Sharp glances at Emery, penetrating glares at Youji, and little to say save growls of anger, are what all of them are used to, but it wouldn't make much difference if they realized something is on the red-head's mind, because he isn't sharing.  
  
What happened between Youji and Emery the night before does not need to be shared, but as far as Ran is concerned, it is a situation he must take great care in keeping an eye on, and he certainly plans to.  
  
  
-----  
  
  
"I thought you said you had deliveries, Omi-san. What's all this?"  
  
The flower shop's go-cart is now parked outside of a large building with unforgiving windows and harshly colored walls. Today is Omi's day with Emery, and his errands always come with a twist.  
  
The beaming blonde has his hair tied back against the heat of the sun, and is lifting one of the many boxes he brought along out of the back of the scooter. "These *are* deliveries, Emmy-chan, just not flowers. A few months ago I got a hold of a few things from my childhood - long story - but I thought the kids at the orphanage could get more use out of them than me."  
  
"Orphanage?" Emery repeats softly, eyeing the looming building. "So that's what this place is..."  
  
It doesn't take much for Omi to realize that Emery is uncomfortable with the idea of where they are, and even without knowing much about Schuldrich's past, he isn't surprised. "You can wait out here if you want." he suggests kindly. "I can take care of these boxes by myself."  
  
"No, I don't mind." mends the young red-head, almost too quickly, obviously hoping to dismiss any belief that he is as disturbed as it would seem. "It's very kind of you to want to help them, and there's no reason I shouldn't do my part, too. Besides, I gotta earn my keep somehow, right?"  
  
One by one, the two boys haul in boxes of Omi's old toys, clothes, books, and just about anything else a child might enjoy, proving step by step that Emery is becoming more and more suited to his new life.  
  
Eventually, there is only one box left, but when Emery takes it to bring it inside, he suddenly trips on the curb, sending it to the ground with a heaving thud. The unbalanced boy barely touches the ground himself, but the box unfortunately spills onto the sidewalk. Hastily, he picks up the displaced items, but when reaching for the last memento, a gentle hand unexpectedly stops him.  
  
"Let me see that, Emery." Omi whispers, taking a small stuffed cat from the boy's grasp, and eyeing it critically as if it might spring to life. "I forgot about this." he breathes, a little out of character for one usually so full of energy. "I guess I wasn't thinking when I packed everything up. There's no way I'd give this thing away."  
  
Confused, Emery eyes the pitiful thing as well, but can't for the life of him figure out why Omi would want to keep it. The white fur is somewhat soiled, and not just from landing on the ground a few seconds before, the stuffing is peeking out at the edges, only a few whiskers are left on the face, and it is missing one of its faded blue eyes.   
  
Quite a sad sight for something once loved so dearly.  
  
"Looks pretty worn." Emery comments. "Does it have special meaning or something."  
  
"You could say that." Omi smiles back, sitting himself down on the curb with the cat in his lap. "I don't remember very much about when I was younger. This silly cat, though...I remember it like it was yesterday. My mother - I can picture her so clearly - took me with when she went shopping one day, and this cat was in the window of a toy store we passed. I fell in love with it, begged her to buy it for me, but she said we didn't have time to stop. The next day, when I came down for breakfast, it was sitting in my place at the table. She must have went back for it later, and wanted to keep it a surprise..." He trails off ever so slightly, a fog settling over his usually bright blue eyes. "I was so young then. It's the only memory I have of her now...the only thing I have left...of my life before...before..."  
  
"Before Weiss...?"  
  
Slowly, Omi tilts his head up to look at Emery, who is still holding that final box, and looking down at him with more understanding than should be possible. "Hai...before Weiss." he replies. "Well, we better get that last box inside. Wouldn't want to keep the kids waiting."  
  
Emery nods, and takes the hint, leaving Omi on the pavement as he heads inside to deliver that final gift. When he returns, the young florist is still sitting there, eyeing his childhood friend, and Emery's voice barely reaches him when the boy mentions that they should be heading home.  
  
It reaches him enough, however, to force him out of his reverie, and Omi eventually finds his place in the driver's seat, with Emery beside him, and that dear stuffed cat placed lovingly between them.  
  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
  
Too short? Maybe, but I wanted to get the next chapter up. Sorry I'm writing like a snail, but college doesn't pay for itself! :-)  
  
I've had many requests for pairings, but my mind is set, and you should be able to figure it out in the coming chapters. Maybe not the next one, but certainly the one after it if this plays out the way I want it.  
  
Thanks so much for all the great reviews, so REVIEW again, and I'll get that next part up as soon as I can. 


	7. 7

*****7*****  
"Please, don't make me go down there..."  
  
"Sorry, Em, we made a deal. We swore to take turns watching over you, and...like it or not...today is Ran's day."  
  
Desperately, Emery clings to Ken's sleeve, petrified at the thought of leaving the safety of the living room behind and climbing down those stairs into a very uninviting shop. "Bitte, Ken-san. I know he's been better, but...what if I do something to make him mad and he...I don't know...runs me through with a trowel, or something?"  
  
"Being a little melodramatic, are we?" Ken laughs, grabbing Emery by the hand to drag him down those dreaded stairs. "Don't worry so much. Ran can be a jackass sometimes, but he's not completely heartless. Besides, they'll be somebody else in the shop all day. He won't try anything. I promise."  
  
Emery is not soothed. He feels indebted to Ran for rescuing him from Youji the other night, but even with tempers calmed, he does not feel comfortable spending the day with someone who also recently threatened to kill him.  
  
The choice is not up to him, however, and at the bottom of the stairs, Ken tosses him his apron while proceeding to push the trembling boy in Ran's direction.  
  
"Stop sniveling like that." Ran growls, after a few tense moments of Emery staring frightfully up at him. "Put your apron on and get to work. We're doing inventory today, and I don't want to waste any time. Understand?"  
  
"...hai." Emery squeaks, fumbling frantically with his apron to comply, and casting pitiful glances at Ken and Youji across the shop.   
  
Omi is taking advantage of an advanced computer class today, and Ken will be leaving before lunch to buy next week's groceries. Basically, Emery will be all alone with an easily distracted Kudo Youji and the deadly Fujimiya Ran all too soon. The smart thing to do: listen to whatever Ran tells him and follow every order he is given.  
  
Strangely enough, that simple code of conduct carries Emery through most of the day without incident. Ran yells at him constantly, glares like Death itself whenever he makes eye contact, and still clearly distrusts the boy in all possible ways, but hey, at least he's still alive.  
  
Eventually, the day wanes on, and hours have gone by with moderate levels of peace and pandemonium. Ken has already left, been gone, and should be returning from the market any minute now. As for Omi, his class gets over in about an hour.   
  
Carrying the last few cases of unused pots into the storage room, Emery feels he is nearly in the clear after a surprisingly uneventful day. That is, until noticing that a certain someone has followed him inside.  
  
"Aya-san...you don't have to hound me like this." Emery shivers, eyeing the darkness behind him cautiously, where Ran has been silently lurking. Carefully, he sets the boxes down and turns to face his stalker. "You've been overdoing your job. You can watch me and trust me at the same time, you know?"  
  
"Can I?" Ran sneers, stepping from the shadows. "Then why are you so eager to get rid of me?"  
  
"Stop this. Please. I thought we had...an understanding. I mean...you...you came to my rescue the other night, didn't you?"  
  
"I came to Youji's rescue. To rescue him from himself." Ran counters, advancing menacingly enough to back Emery against the store room wall. "That is what I told you, and that is what happened. There is no understanding between us. For a moment of weakness I helped you, but I am not as dense as those fools out there."  
  
SLAM! Ran's arm shoots out, striking the wall near Emery's face. The boy flinches, forming himself more and more to the wall behind him as Ran leans in with murder on his mind.  
  
"They've all taken some twisted liking to you. K'so! How brainless are they?! The second you become Schuldrich again you will turn on us. I don't care if you don't remember. I don't care if you are truly this pathetic, little boy quivering in front of me. You will change, you will betray us, and you will be gone."  
  
Oh, how Emery longs for the strength to deny Ran's accusations. Wait...he does have the strength. "Fuck you!" he cries, pushing Ran away with surprising force. "You don't know me! You don't anything about me! Even if I do change back, you can't know for sure that I'd betray you? I don't want to go back to that life. I want to stay here!"  
  
"It doesn't matter what *you* want! Schuldrich is not welcome here, and Schuldrich would not want to stay!!"  
  
"I'm not Schuldrich!"  
  
"Yes, you are!!"  
  
"No, I'm - !" Cut off. At that moment, Emery raised his hand in anger, intending to strike Ran across the face, but the older man's quick reflexes caught him in mid-air.   
  
Emery's eyes become wide with pain; Ran's grip shows no mercy, and the boy's arm is burning beneath it.   
  
They fueled each other's anger all too well, but in the end it seems that Ran will win the argument.   
  
"Yes...you are." he breathes, more a warning than a statement. "Accept that your stay here will not last much longer. And understand this...if you ever raise a hand to me again...I *will* cut it off."  
  
Roughly, Ran tosses Emery back, and spins around to leave the storage room behind. He doesn't get very far before a soft whisper reaches his all too often deaf ears. "You're wrong about me...about everything..."  
  
"Then look for yourself." Ran cuts in, without looking back. "The locked door down the hall leads to our mission room. The key is in the cash register. Search the computer for 'Schuldrich' and you'll find out just what kind of monster you really are."  
  
Minutes pass like days before Emery realizes Ran has left. Has he just been given leave to find out everything he could ever want to know? Has he just been given permission to find out the truth about himself?  
  
Harsh or not, he wastes not even a moment before leaving the storage room for the shop. Heading straight for the cash register, he plans to waste even less time following Ran's orders.  
  
It's time to find out who he is.  
-----  
//Logging on...please wait...connecting...Welcome to Kritiker.//  
  
FLASH! Up and running, all of Weiss' files are now at Emery's disposal. Where to begin? The folders read out in front of him as "Mission Logs," "Enemy Reports," "Special Cases," and "Operative Files." It doesn't take a genius to figure out which file he is most likely under, although he is just as likely to be under more than one.   
  
The file that first catches his attention, however, is the one marked "Operative Files." He could learn everything about his boarders through that file. Everything.  
  
Naturally, the pointer slides over to rest on the tempting folder, following the movement of his hand on the mouse. Just a simple "click, click" and...no. The pointer moves away. Curious or not, he feels it would be too much of a violation. Better to become friends and find out their truths as they are willing to reveal them.  
  
Turning his attention to "Enemy Reports," he opens the file and scrolls down to the bottom where there is a file on "Schwartz" and a separate file on "Schuldrich" right above it. He clicks on "Schwartz" first. The safer choice. Or so he believes.  
  
//Believed for a time to be Taketori Reiji's personal bodyguards, this supernatural foursome was found to actually be working for a mysterious group known as Estet. Later, we revealed that they were not only willing to betray their benefactors, but had most likely planned on it all along. What they are truly planning, I cannot say, but I know it can't be anything good. That is, if what we are doing does any good. The members reflect us so well, sometimes I wonder if God created them just to punish us for being what we are.//  
  
Emery leans back from the screen a moment. This narrative is more of a personal opinion than an objective log. But whose voice is this that pours through typed words so well? It has to be one of the guys. One of Weiss. But which one?  
  
//The members consist of Brad Crawford, the leader and psychic, Schuldrich, the mind reader, Farfarello, the one who feels no pain, and Naoe Nagi, the telekinetic. The latter are discussed at length in personal files.//  
  
His mind already wandering back to the previous page, Emery realizes that the file "Schuldrich" must hold the answers he seeks, after all. But he finishes the brief conclusion on Schwartz as a whole before returning.  
  
//We have seen no sign of them since the incident with Fujimiya Aya and Estet, but we have no doubts that they survived and are plotting their next move. We can only hope that the next time we meet only one group will walk away alive.//  
  
Click. Emery shivers, quickly going back to the previous screen. Suddenly, it dawns on him. The user ID was Bombay, but as he had found out through many observations, Omi is the computer expert. The title and typing must be his.  
  
If even Omi can hate Schwartz enough to wish them dead, what does that say about Emery's true identity? Well, I guess it's time to find out.  
  
Click, click. The file, "Schuldrich," is opened, and the real truth is printed before him.  
  
//Schuldrich, a key member in our archetype group, Schwartz, is the one I fear most. He can reach inside your mind and force you to think things, do things, you would never dream of doing. He can read every thought and emotion you ever had. He can know you inside out and use it to destroy you, and he does. I have seen it. I have felt it. If it wasn't for him, Ouka might still be alive.//  
  
Ouka. Omi mentioned her to Emery once, who she was, what she meant, and even...how she died. Now, it turns out he was one of the characters - names mysteriously left out as Omi told the tale - that caused her death.  
  
//Schuldrich moves faster than my eyes can follow. He would appear weak to anyone who passed him on the street, but he is far stronger than he looks. I know. The night he abducted me for Taketori Hirofumi, his fist in my stomach was like a lead pipe. It moved so fast, so hard, I still find myself getting short of breath. Worst of all, I know he enjoyed every minute of it. He loved my pain. Devoured it. And I hate him for it. I hate all of them. How can they enjoy suffering the way they do? What kind of monsters are they?//  
  
(...and you'll find out just what kind of monster you really are...)  
  
Emery feels sick. Disgusted. He understands perfectly why Omi would hate him, why all of them should hate him, and as he reads through his long and painful file, he at last truly understands why Ran hates him most of all. He took away the one thing precious in Ran's life: his sister.   
  
She was recovered. She even woke up. But the fear of losing her will never go away.  
  
Schuldrich really is a monster. And in Emery's mind, he is a monster, as well. Not just because of what he did to Weiss, but for all the horrid things he can't stomach reading as the file and the night dwindles on.  
-----  
The night did indeed dwindle on...and on...and on. Only after he had consumed every file he could find on himself and his former team, did Emery at last trip his way back up the basement stairs, pass the concerned looks on the faces of three florists out of the four, and stumble up the next set of steps until reaching his bed and staying there.  
  
No, he wasn't hungry when Ken came in to offer him supper. Yes, he was fine when Youji asked if everything was alright. No, he didn't want to talk about it when Omi insisted they work things out together. And yes, he was sorry he ever went looking for the truth when Ran passed his door, looked in with a glare, and walked away.  
  
The pact had broken with a single challenge from Ran. Emery knows who he was now. He doesn't remember, but he knows. And the others all know that he knows. Things can never be the same.  
  
At the stroke of midnight, Emery dresses for bed, pulling on a T-shirt to go with his blue boxers, and climbs under the covers on an empty stomach. Perhaps sleep will help him forget, at least for a moment, what he learned on that basement computer.  
-----  
"Es tut mir Leid..." Emery mumbles in his sleep, tossing madly on the bed, caught in the fit of a painful nightmare. "...bitte...ich...I...I didn't mean to...hurt you...please...forgive me..."  
  
All night he has been plagued with resurfacing images and triggered memories, haunted by the screams and bloody bodies of victims he still can't put a face to, but knows he hurt.  
  
"...my hands...are so red...I can't even see them anymore..." he whimpers. "...can't you see...how sorry I am...please...leave me alone...I wish...I could take back what I did...but I can't...please...please, leave me alone...stay away from me...stop....let me go...please...don't hurt me...I...I'm sorry...I'M SORRY!!"  
  
WHOOSH! Emery springs up in bed, his eyes wide, the covers tangling his limbs, and sweat from hours of terror slick on his skin. It was all a dream, but even the shadows taunt him now with his past, reaching out with claws to rip him apart the way he so often tore into innocent minds.  
  
Thin arms wrap tightly around his even thinner frame, darting blue eyes flick from side to side anxiously, and Emery suddenly leaps from the bed, desperate to escape a fear he cannot give form to, but knows it is one he cannot face alone.  
  
Out in the hall, the darkness is even more encumbering, and every corner is another dying prey he slaughtered, waiting to take revenge.  
  
Groping for the first doorknob he comes to, Emery slips into a nearby room and slams the door behind him, leaning back breathlessly against it. Freedom. Anywhere is better than that void of lonesome grief. Anywhere...  
  
"What are *you* doing here?!" demands a sudden voice from within.  
  
All at once, Emery remembers who belongs to the room that is closest to his, even though he hadn't remembered soon enough to choose a better sanctuary. "...Aya-san..." he breathes, squinting at the figure on the bed in front of him. "...go...gomen...I didn't...realize..."  
  
"Get out!" Ran grimaces, sitting up in bed fully now and turning to face the door. His bare chest is exposed as the sheets fall away, his flame-licked hair tousled, and his eyes are even fiercer and deadlier than usual while Emery's adjust to the dark and take in this oddly humorous and breathtaking sight. "What are you staring at?! I said, get out! What makes you think you have the right to even think of coming into my room?"  
  
"I didn't know it was you room. I swear I didn't." Emery defends himself, clutching back against the door. "I know I shouldn't be in here, but...please, don't make me go back out there..."  
  
As hard as he is trying to hold back his tears, they fall defiantly anyway, tumbling down his pale cheeks. He knows there is nothing to fear in that hallway, in his room, or even within his own dreams, but he still fears that fear, and it is not going away.  
  
Even odder than his fright is the attention he can't stop focusing on Ran. The older man is irate at his presence, fuming for him to get out, but he can't. More than just being afraid, he can't stop tracing the ivory outlines of Ran's face, neck, arms, and chest, with his eyes. The way that blood-red hair rests on those shoulders, how those violet eyes glimmer. He fears the image and finds it beautiful at the same time.  
  
(...what am I thinking...?) Emery chides, lowering his lingering gaze to the floor. (Real smart, Em; give him another reason to be sickened by you...)  
  
"Don't hand me your sad excuses." Ran bites back in reply to Emery's plea, not having noticed the intent eyes that had remained on him for so long. "Stop crying over nothing and go back to bed."  
  
But he can't stop crying; there are far too many reasons to let the tears fall. "I can't...I don't want to be alone." he sniffles. "All the things I found out about...myself...Schuldrich...I can't get it out of my head. I keep having these dreams...and...I know they're just nightmares, but...I'm so scared..."  
  
"And what am I supposed to do about it?" Ran snaps. "You committed those crimes. I can't go back in time for you and save the lives you stole any more than I can do the same for myself."  
  
(I was right...Weiss does kill when they have to...) dawns the truth, not that Emery is surprised. Even if he did skip over personal things about his new companions, it wasn't difficult to figure out who and what Weiss are.  
  
Still, whatever they are, it is nothing compared to the sins weighing him down.  
  
"I know you...hate me...Aya-san...and you should..." Emery begins softly, hopefully. "But...could I...please...sleep in here with you...?"  
  
Shock. Ran's face washes over with pure shock. The very idea is absurd, but that Emery would even dare ask such a thing is even more foolish.  
  
To Emery's own bewilderment, however, and perhaps a little of Ran's as well, the stern red-head does not scream for him to leave, never return, and hopefully end up dead on his way out. No. After a tense moment of utter silence, he actually pulls the covers back, slides over to one side, and waits for Emery to join him.  
  
The younger boy doesn't move. He stares. Tears still falling, mouth slightly slack, he stares, and wonders if this is just another dream.  
  
"Well?" Ran snarls, a bit softer, but not by much. "Do you want me to change my mind? Because I would be more than happy to-"  
  
"No! I...I want to stay." Emery whispers, pushing away from the door. "Danke...Aya-san."  
  
Ever so slowly, the boy moves forward, edging closer and closer until reaching the bed, climbing in, and snuggling under the covers left soft and warm by Ran's recent occupation of the same spot. The covers are saturated with Ran's scent, something like cinnamon and roses and bitterness, all taken in with one perfect whiff.   
  
Not surprisingly, Ran turns away from Emery, facing the wall, and leaves space enough for an entire other person between them.   
  
At last feeling safe-even in such dangerous quarters-Emery doesn't mind his companion's cold shoulder one bit. "A...Aya-san...?"  
  
"Please, tell me you aren't planning to keep me up all night."  
  
"I...just wanted to tell you...that you were right." Emery sighs, staring at the back of Ran's bright red head, brilliant even in this deafening darkness. "Schuldrich is a monster. All those files, they just kept getting worse the more I read them. I used to do such horrible things. But I want you to know...when I grow up...whether it happens over years like it should, or all of a sudden the way I suddenly became young again...I will never be *him* again. I want to stay here...with you." Blush. "I mean...with...all of you."  
  
"...we'll see." Ran replies softly. Too soft. He reveals in those simple words that he might just be capable of believing in Emery after all.  
  
"...Aya-san...?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry for what?"  
  
"For...everything. But especially...for taking your sister away from you. I'm glad she woke up."  
  
Silence. For a long time, Emery is granted no reply. In fact, he is almost certain that Ran has fallen asleep until that deep and smooth voice at last answers his admissions. "...arigato..." Pause. Long pause. "...Emery. Now...shut up and go to sleep."  
  
If he had been perhaps a little braver, Emery might have laughed, but instead he smiled, rolled cozily onto his side, and drifted into sleep. For reasons he can not yet understand, he feels more comfortable in Ran's company right now than he has with any of the others since first coming to stay in their home.  
*****A/N*****  
Long and lovely! Hope you enjoyed this, and you should be able to figure out what the pairing is by now. So...what comes next? Let's start with how the others will feel when they find out Ran and Emery slept in the same bed all night. :) Ja ne! Till next chapter, which will hopefully be up in less time than it took me to post this one. 


	8. 8

*****8*****  
Beep. Beep.   
  
It is now seven in the morning, and Fujimiya Ran's alarm clock is signaling him to rise for another long day. Normally, he would have been up at least five minutes before it went off, but today he is satisfied to hit 'snooze' and drift back to sleep.  
  
Today is Sunday and the shop doesn't open until noon; he can afford to sleep in for once, especially when he feels so cozy warm and content right where he is. The reason he is so snuggled in alludes him a moment as he drifts between that void of being half-awake and half-asleep, but the truth soon begins to dawn on him like the rising dawn outside.  
  
Small arms are wrapped tightly around his waist, a soft head of hair tickles his chest, and a lithe body is pressed close to his beneath the covers.   
  
Ran's violet eyes spring open, smooth muscles tensing as he realizes his arms are loosely entwined around a companion he had forgotten was sharing his bed. Some time during the night, he and Emery had subconsciously clung to each other, but now that he is fully awake, Ran no longer finds the close-quarters a comfort.  
  
Cautiously slow, Ran lifts himself up, slinking his arms away from Emery's shoulders. He barely disentangles himself, still with the boy clinging tightly to him, when the bedroom door suddenly opens, and an unwelcome and unexpected guest walks thoughtlessly inside.  
  
"Ran, have you seen Emery, 'cause...he's..." Youji trails off, the answer to his question appearing right before his eyes. "...here with you..." finishes the phrase, like some timid whisper afraid to be heard.  
  
Instinctively, Ran opens his mouth to speak, but considering he is usually hard-up for the right words, one can imagine his luck on a morning like this.  
  
"Don't bother." Youji cuts in, before Ran can voice the words he doesn't have. Bearing an expression like a cross between betrayal and disgust, the misunderstanding blonde begins backing out of the room far too quickly for any explanation to reach him. "No, I get it. Believe me...I get it."  
  
SLAM! Yotan is out the door, slamming it shut behind him, and the resonance is enough to wake slumbering Emery out of dreamland.   
  
Bright blue eyes flutter, and sunset strands dig deeper into Ran's chest. "...uhh...where am I...?" questions his adorably groggy voice.  
  
"Too close for comfort..." Ran groans, staring pointedly down into Emery's steadily bewildering face.  
  
"Aya-san!" Emery squeaks, flinching away to the far end of the bed. "Gomen...I swear I...I'd never purposely -"  
  
"I know." Ran solaces, sitting up to run a hand through his mused hair. "Whatever happened during the night, I know you didn't do anything on purpose. Problem is...Youji just stormed out of here under a very wrong impression about what *did* happen, and it is highly unlikely he will give us the benefit of the doubt."  
  
Emery has nothing to say to that; the deep blush washing over his face and down his spine says enough all on its own.   
  
Not seeming to notice, Ran throws back the covers and gets out of bed, trudging sluggishly to the door. "Don't worry about it. He has a flair for the dramatic, anyway. He would never seriously believe something happened between us. Even Youji isn't *that* delusional."  
  
SLAM! Emery isn't given the chance to voice his opinion on that taunting statement. Every so often life becomes a constant deja vu, and after that second disruption as Ran follows Youji into the hallway, Emery sinks lower under the covers, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
What *did* happen last night? Random movement? Or subconscious intention?  
  
(Everyone moves around when they sleep.) Emery resolves. (I'm just glad he didn't kill me over it. Maybe we have an understanding, after all...)  
*****  
"Youji, matte!" Ran calls, trailing behind as he follows his angered friend into the kitchen, where Ken and Omi are already eating breakfast. Pretending not to hear his pursuer, however, Youji storms on ahead. "I said, matte!" Ran calls again, reaching out to fiercely grasp Youji's shoulder.  
  
Turning sharply, the flustered blonde jerks away. "I heard you!" he barks. "You don't have to make up excuses for me, okay? I don't *want* to know what happened."  
  
"*Nothing* happened." Ran counters, eyeing Omi and Ken's curious faces in frustration. They seem very interested in the conversation all of a sudden. "He came into my room last night babbling about nightmares and asked to stay. So...I let him sleep with me. That's all. Like a child slipping into his parents' bed at night, it was purely innocent."  
  
Ken and Omi exchange bewildered expressions, but Youji isn't convinced of anything. "Innocent? Hn. You looked pretty cozy to me."  
  
"We shifted during the night."  
  
"Shifted?"  
  
"Yes, shifted."  
  
"You expect me to believe -"  
  
"Me? Yes, I *do* expect you to believe me, because you know I would never even think of doing what you are implying I did. Would I?" he adds, turning his attention to the obvious eaves-droppers.  
  
Both Omi and Ken mumble incoherently for a few moments, before Omi finally attempts to make sense. "Uhh...well...no?" draws out his tentative reply.  
  
"Exactly." Ran states with finality. "Even if I did have feelings for someone, I would never jump into bed with them after one day. You know me better than that, Youji."  
  
Ken and Omi flick their eyes back and forth between their bickering teammates, back and forth again and again, waiting for one of them to make the next move. Neither is very good at backing down, but even the most stubborn animal can admit defeat when they are wrong.  
  
At long last, Youji's stern expression softens, and a suffering sigh signals his surrender. "K'so! I sure know how to put my foot in it, huh?" he concedes, his emerald eyes lowering in defeat. "You're not the type to sleep around. I know that. Especially with some scrawny kid. And...if you ever would end up...whatever...I don't have the right to say it's wrong. I'm sorry."  
  
"No need to apologize." Ran dismisses. "You saw what you saw and came to a conclusion. I may have reacted the same in your position."  
  
"I certainly wouldn't mind *switching* positions if I could have the one you were in a few minutes ago."  
  
"Kudo..."  
  
"Kidding!"  
*****  
And so the day moves on, no throats cut, no loyalties broken. For once, the flower shop is without inner turmoil, and the sun boldly peaks inside the window to shed a little light on a few dark lives.  
  
Nearly everyone has passed off Emery and Ran's sleeping arrangements as nothing important enough to dwell on for very long. Everyone except Emery, that is. And maybe even Ran a little, too.  
  
"Could you hand me that extra bunch of lilacs, Emery?"  
  
"Here you are, Aya-san."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
No smile to accompany the kind words, but no glare either, and when Ran is the subject of attention, that's saying alot.  
  
More and more of the day passes into memory, and as the sun reaches high into the sky, there seems to be a certain routine blossoming. Emery is becoming a comfortable addition to the Koneko crew, and his own harsh past as Schuldrich is dimmed by the development.  
  
"Emery, would you mind taking this box back into the storage room?" Ran asks during the shop's mid-afternoon lull. "Youji keeps tripping over it."  
  
Smiling brilliantly, Emery reaches out to take it, but it turns out the box is just a bit too heavy for his smaller frame, and it slips from his fingers, striking the ground with a shocking BOOM.  
  
Both boys bend down to retrieve it, but Emery soon realizes that Ran is far more capable of lifting the box back up, and stands back to give his companion room. Watching perhaps a little too closely, Emery notices a slight glimmer of silver slip out from inside Ran's shirt.   
  
"What's that, Aya-san?" he asks innocently.  
  
Placing the box on the counter, Ran turns back and looks down in surprise at the necklace that has come into view. "Oh...this...this is nothing."  
  
"Is that a cross?"  
  
"Uh...I...I guess it is."  
  
"Is it okay if I...?" Emery reaches out a hand, gesturing to ask if he can take a closer look. Ran appears increasingly uncomfortable putting so much attention on his necklace, but he nods, allowing Emery to finger the cross in his delicate hands.  
  
It isn't anything elaborate; a simple, silver chain, a light and smooth cross about the size of a thumb. Elegant and beautiful, just like the man wearing it.  
  
"It's so pretty. Why do you keep it hidden?"  
  
Ran takes a minute to consider this before answering. "I guess I always thought it would be too hypocritical of me to wear it out in the open." he explains. "Considering my occupation, it just didn't seem right. I really shouldn't wear it at all."  
  
"Why do you say that?" Emery pushes, allowing the cross to jingle its way back into place. "Don't you believe in God anymore?"  
  
"I believe in Him...I just...don't know if I care much anymore..."  
  
Emery hushes into silence; he doesn't quite know what to say to that. As far as Schuldrich's divine beliefs go, he has no idea what he used to believe, but he remembers what the child in him used to believe. There is most definitely a God and he must love the world very much. How else could the people of the world be capable of loving each other?  
  
Taking note of the troubled expression his young friend is staring at him with, Ran releases a deep sigh. Never before has he been given so much trouble, and been forced to explain himself so fully.   
  
The rest of Weiss usually leaves him alone.  
  
"Don't look at me that way. How do you think you would feel about God and life after death if you had as many skeletons in your closet as I do?"  
  
Emery raises a sunset-colored eyebrow at this. "But I do. Maybe even more than you."  
  
"Be glad you don't remember then. God can't hate you for deeds you don't remember doing."  
  
"You say that as if you think he hates *you*."  
  
Sigh. Again. This is getting tiresome. "Can we drop this, please. There's work to be done." Ran growls in frustration, slipping past Emery to get away from that piercing stare and all that painful optimism.  
  
"I don't want to drop it." Emery states sharply, bordering on venom nearly as poisonous as Ran's, as he grabs onto his companion's arm before he can get away. "I'm no expert, and I'm certainly no angel, with or without the evil past, but everyone should have at least a little faith in God. How could you get up in the morning without it? I'd be terrified to even move if I didn't think He loved me and would forgive me for the sins I commit. Maybe that's too 'Sunday School' for you. Fine. But you still wear the cross. Why? Why bother if you don't care?"  
  
Almost any other time, Ran would have snatched his arm back and screamed out some nasty comment, but not today. "Because the person who gave it to me did." he breathes, without turning to look back. "It was a gift from my sister. Aya. You know how much she meant to me. Means to me. Even now, I...I still think more of her than of anything else. I wear it for her, not for the...the God that took her away and - "  
  
" - gave her back again." Emery finishes, though it is not the thought Ran had in mind.  
  
"...maybe you're right."  
  
"I am."  
  
Smile - ever so subtlety. "You certainly are stubborn, aren't you?"  
  
Smile back, without an ounce of holding back. "When given enough reason, yes I am."  
  
Fair enough, and to Ran's extreme relief, the matter is dropped, at least out loud. The commotion going on inside his mind, however, isn't dropped one bit. Emery's words follow him throughout the rest of the day because they make perfect sense and few things do that anymore in the lives of Weiss. In the lives of any of them. It's almost a comfort, like a breath of air. To Hell with being fresh; he can't remember the last time he breathed free at all.  
  
On Emery's end, the boy is rather content with himself. He is well aware that his presence with Weiss is having a positive affect on more than just Fujimiya Ran, and he is loving every minute of it. Loving it so much, he almost misses the out of place figure watching him so intently from across the street.  
  
Almost.  
  
Closing time for the Koneko, and Emery is out front getting ready to pull down the front gate, but something stops him. He suddenly has the urge to look up. He can't explain why, there is just something that feels familiar. Like home.  
  
Standing small and still beside the newsstand across the street is a young boy, no older than 16, who is quite thin, with dark, brown hair and sad, blue eyes. He is so familiar, but Emery can't quite put his foot on why.  
  
Watching him far too intensely in return, the mysterious boy stands positively frozen in place, staring back at Emery as if he can't believe his eyes. As if he knows him. As if he might hold a few answers.  
  
Blink. A bus drives past, and the figure is gone. He simply vanishes, as if he never existed, but Emery knows differently.  
  
"Hurry it up, kid, there's dinner waiting upstairs, and if I have to hear Omi complain about burnt this or burnt that one more time..."  
  
"I'm coming, Youji-san." Emery interrupts, slowly pulling down the shade. "I just...thought I saw someone I knew."  
*****  
(Tomorrow marks a week since I first came here, and *now* I'm seeing things.) the young red-head scolds himself, pulling back the covers to climb inside for bed. (I don't know who he was, I'm sure of that, but something...something about him seemed so...)  
  
"...familiar." he breathes, finishing the thought out loud. "I keep thinking that, everytime I try and remember how he looked...standing there across the street...it feels...*familiar*. But the only thing that has felt even remotely familiar since I woke up...is Weiss. What does that mean...?"  
  
"Are you talking to yourself in here?" booms a sudden voice. Ran enters from the adjoined bathroom, clad in the black pants he wears to bed.  
  
"Just thinking out loud." Emery smiles, snuggling into the pillow. "Thanks for letting me sleep here again. I still feel kinda...scared to be alone."  
  
Moving around to the other side of the bed, Ran climbs in as well, reaching up to turn off the lamp before settling down. "Just don't make it a habit. You're a grown boy, you don't need to be protected all the time."  
  
"A few days ago you thought I needed to be watched non-stop from morning til midnight."  
  
"I changed my mind." echoes Ran's humorless reply.  
  
Emery, however, sees past the mask of apathy. "I'm glad. I may not remember much about my life, but I can say with certainty that this is the most at home I have ever felt. Here...with you..."  
  
"You mean, with Weiss?"  
  
"Weiss! Right. I meant Weiss...not you...I mean...you're apart of Weiss so you're included, but...not you alone...cause that would be -"  
  
"Emery?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Go to sleep."  
  
"Thanks."  
*****A/N*****  
I'm alive, and I really hope you don't hate me too badly. Had I posted three weeks ago, I would have had a great excuse: Sister's Wedding, Lead in the Spring Play. Now, however, I have had those three weeks to lie around and do nothing. I blame writer's block, but be happy you have a new chapter. I promise I will finish this soon, and quickly.   
  
I'm pretty sure you can guess who was across the street, but the real important thing is that 'tomorrow' is Em's one week Anniversary with the boys. That may hold more meaning than you'd think... 


	9. 9

*****9*****  
  
(How can he be so completely different by losing only a handful of years? Same hair, same face. Only younger, with kindness in his eyes instead of deceit. He seems like a whole new person, given a second chance, without having to worry about the past, Schwartz, or dealing with his powers. I wonder if he knows how powerful the gift he has been given really is...)  
  
Wrapped in the first rays of a new day, Ran lays in bed with Emery curled close against him, much as they had been the morning before. Although Emery was rather close to Ran when the violet-eyed assassin first woke up, this time it was a conscious effort to pull him closer.  
  
On the surface, no romantic intentions even crossed Ran's mind; his gesture was done out of sympathy and support. Or...maybe...he just likes the feeling of someone warm and peaceful beside him.  
  
(He looks so innocent this way...sleeping...eyes closed...hair in a million different directions...heh. What's wrong with me? He's so young, I shouldn't even be thinking things like this. Young...shy...but still bold and stubborn when concerning something important to him. That must be it, why I was able to change my mind about him so suddenly: he reminds me of *me* at his age. Oh, God, if you're really up there listening, take care of this boy. Let him keep this second chance..."  
  
Carefully, Ran slips his arms from around Emery's shoulders, and gets out of bed. It's still a little early, but as with the start of every new work week, he never seems to tire of getting a head start.  
  
Emery, oddly enough, is awake as well. He has been for quite awhile now, but didn't want to disrupt his companion. Now that Ran has found his way into the bathroom to get ready for the day, Emery allows himself to stir, blinking up at the stark white ceiling.  
  
(I can't believe it.) he grins, stretching out on the bed. (I never thought we'd get along well enough for Aya to say such nice things about me...)  
  
*****  
  
"What do you wanna eat this beautiful Monday morning, KenKen?"  
  
"Am I still dreaming, or is Kudo actually up and cooking breakfast for once in his life." the groggy brunette in question mumbles to Omi, who is slowly sauntering into the kitchen behind him.  
  
Indeed, Youji is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with apron on and eggs cooking in the frying pan. Ran is already sitting at the table, and soon they are all seated around for breakfast, waiting for their last member to show up.  
  
"Ohaiyo, minna!" Emery smiles, greeting the others, and taking in a big whiff of Youji's many delicacies. "Mmm, all of that smells so good, Youji-san. I'm starved!"  
  
"At least someone knows how to appreciate my hard work." Youji comments smugly, placing different plates on the table filled with waffles, eggs, bacon, and even pile after pile of toast. "This is a rare occurrence, so eat up boys. The next time I'm up this early on a Monday, it'll be 20 below in July."  
  
Most of the crew laughs heartily at the joke, with even stoic Ran smiling faintly through his shadowy expression.  
  
Scooping up a huge helping of scrambled eggs, Omi looks on ravenously. "What's the occasion, Yotan? You've outdone yourself."  
  
"It's Emery's one week anniversary, Omiitchi. I felt like celebrating."  
  
Emery blushes deeply, nearly spilling syrup onto the table instead of his king-sized waffle. The boys really are like a family, to each other, and more and more towards him. He may not remember his real family, or even the makeshift one he had in Schwartz, but he understands the comfort of having people care about him merely by being in the company of four very unique young men.  
  
It doesn't take long before all of them are digging into their large meals, so there isn't much opportunity for conversation, at first. For obvious reasons, this doesn't last long.  
  
"Gee, Youji, when's the last time you were out on a date?" Ken inquires with a crooked grin. "You're turning into Susie Homemaker around here."  
  
Youji tosses him a glare. (At least I've actually *been* on a date before.)  
  
Looking up from his mound of food, Emery chuckles a little under his breath. "Really, Youji-san, he was just joking."  
  
Somewhat thrown off, Youji looks up as well. "I didn't say anything. Comments like that should not be dignified with a response."  
  
"But Youji-san - "  
  
(It has been a while since Youji had a date.) Omi observes. (I hope he isn't developing a crush on Emery.)  
  
"Of course he isn't!" Emery shouts defensively. The last thing he wants is for the others to find out about that unfortunate incident he and Youji had shared earlier in the week, and talking about crushes could quickly lead to that topic.  
  
"Of course...who isn't...what?" Ken asks with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Youji. Developing a crush on me."  
  
The others eye him warily, with Omi nearly dropping his glass of milk. "What are you talking about, Emmy-chan?" the young blonde questions, sounding quite suspicion. After all, it was his thoughts that had been mysteriously read into.  
  
Taking note of so many piercing gazing sizing him up, Emery decides to dismiss it. "Sumimasen. It's nothing. Just thinking out loud again."  
  
A mild silence settles, but this time it is not because their mouths are full. Emery feels as if a thousand eyes are on him instead of eight, but considering the analytical eight that are on him, it isn't surprising that they are powerful enough to unsettle him.  
  
(That was weird.) Ken ponders, trying to be less obvious about keeping an eye on what Emery is doing. (Emery couldn't be reading our minds again could he?)  
  
(It would be way freaky if the kid started getting his powers back.) Youji thinks next, his thoughts mirroring Ken's all too well. (Who knows what would happen if he did...)  
  
(He might start becoming Schuldrich again.) Omi worries, trembling a little as he reaches for the carton of milk. (If that happened, would he - )  
  
(...turn on us. Just as I feared, he might change in the blink of an eye.) Ran scowls, staring intently at his unfinished meal, and following suit with his teammates in train of thought. (If that happens, we may have to take action. We may have to - )  
  
"Stop it!" Emery cries, pushing back from the table, and clasping his hands to his ears. "Stop talking as if I'm not here. I don't have my powers back, and I am never going to turn into Schuldrich again. Stop saying that I will!"  
  
Terrified silence. None of the others know quite how to approach this, because the very fear on all of their minds is proving to be real.  
  
"Emery..." Ran begins in a low voice, attempting to speak as rationally as he can. "We didn't say anything. None of us have said a word. If you heard all of that, then reading our minds is exactly what you were doing."  
  
Slowly, Emery's hands fall away from his ears and he looks up into the worried faces of his new friends. Is it true? Can he actually hear what they are thinking...?  
  
(Oh, Emmy-chan, I wish we were wrong.)  
  
(Don't worry, chibi, we'll think of something. We won't let you turn into that again.)  
  
(Somehow things'll work out, Em. I'm sure they will.)  
  
(I want to believe in you, even after every harsh word and cruel thought I've had of you. I want to believe that it's possible for someone like us to have a second chance.)  
  
Emery heard it all. And all without a single one of them opening their mouths.  
  
"Oh, God...I really *can* hear you..." he whispers, fighting the tears springing to his eyes. "What does this mean...?"  
  
"Maybe..." Omi tries. "...maybe you should stay inside today, Emmy-chan. You know, so we can - "  
  
"Hide me?" Emery jumps in, suddenly defensive. "Keep me inside so I don't run away or try anything. Is that it?"  
  
"No, not at all. We're just saying - "  
  
"You don't trust me. One stupid sign and you instantly look at me like one of the bad guys again." Angrily, Emery stands from the table and begins to back away, flicking his eyes nervously back and forth between the others. "This doesn't mean anything. Who cares if I catch a few stray thoughts. I am *not* Schuldrich! I am never going to be him again. Do you hear me?! I'm not Schuldrich....I'm not...I..."  
  
Desperately, he succumbs to those relentless tears, crying helplessly in front of the four people he would least want to see him in such a weak and pitiable state.  
  
Omi is the first to rise from the table and rush to Emery's side. At first, he is afraid his young friend will push him away, but the need for comfort is stronger than stubborn indifference and foolish anger. Soon, the others surround them, all offering encouragement, but despite Emery's calmed temper, he still refuses to be treated any differently. He cannot accept that the wonderful life he has barely begun to know may be torn away from him, even if the others assure him that nothing could ever do that.  
  
Against all of their better judgments, they allow Emery to work in the shop as had been originally planned before the morning's incident. Throughout the entire day, everyone is on edge. The members of Weiss instinctively watch Emery like a hawk, and Emery grows more and more defensive each time he catches them doing it.  
  
He can hear what they are thinking, what the customers are thinking, and as much as it unnerves him, he refuses to accept that it has any true meaning. There must be some other explanation. Maybe it's just a side affect from what originally happened to him and no other traces of his former self will ever show themselves.   
  
Wishful thinking? Not to Emery.  
  
"Hey, Em, maybe you should head to bed early tonight." Ken casually suggests after a rather tense dinner. "Ya know, get some extra sleep. It's been a long day."  
  
(...and you really need to sleep off this denial gig you've been playing.)  
  
"I am not in denial!" Emery snaps, making Ken cringe with the realization that he had been read. Thankfully, Emery has a realization as well after hearing the echo of his own harsh and venomous tone: maybe Ken is right. "Gomen. Sleep is a very good idea. I've been snapping at everyone all day. I'll be myself in the morning. Really. I promise I won't wake up as anyone but me."  
  
And off he goes down the hallway to bed, with all four assassins looking after him. What can they possibly say or do? What happens to Emery is completely in Fate's hands, and there is nothing they can do to influence the outcome. Especially now. Whatever is going to happen next, it's going to happen soon.  
  
*****  
  
Bumps in the ceiling. Little white bumps painted over and worn away by time. Long ago, they were applied to the ceiling with great care to add a little Western influence, but now they are merely an object of fascination to a very tired young boy who is unable to sleep.  
  
(Maybe if I count them I'll bore myself into a stupor.) Emery groans internally, rolling onto his side.   
  
Tonight he is sleeping alone, in his own room at the end of the hall. Sadly, after only two nights with Ran, he can't seem to get comfortable sleeping without someone else there. That is why he is still awake. That, and the fact that an occasional random thought from one of the boys, or from some straggler out on the street, filters into his mind and wakes him up again, usually right before he is about to drift off.  
  
(How did I live this way when I was...*him*? How did I function? I can't even sleep. Maybe it's all luck. Maybe I just have to wait for that perfect moment when sleep and silence strike me at the same time. Yeah, that'll happen. In about five hours.)  
  
Emery shivers. The room has been steadily growing colder for quite some time now. He didn't want to let it bother him, but if his toes turn any bluer, he's afraid they might fall off.  
  
"It's so cold." he mumbles aloud, sitting up and pulling the covers tightly around him. "I should shut the window." Instantly, his eyes move to his left. The single window in his room is wide open, with the curtains blowing ever so slightly with the breeze. Emery is about to get out of bed to close it, when he suddenly realizes something he hadn't thought of before. "Wait...when did I *open* the window...?"  
  
Beat.  
  
"You didn't."  
  
Out of the darkness, as if created from its very depths, a unknown figure steps up beside the bed, closer to Emery, and extends a hand towards his face. Emery attempts to scream, but before it can be fully formed, that hands clamps tightly over his mouth to silence him, and the figure is suddenly on top of the bed, on top of him, and he is pinned to the mattress.   
  
The first thing Emery notices about this intruder is the feel of those fingers on his face. They are rough and heavily scarred, more scarred than you would expect hands to be. The next thing he notices...is gold. A single, golden eye boring into him through the veil of shadows in the room. His vision is already somewhat adjusted to the darkness, but this strange and frightening man is so close to him, that eye is all he can see.  
  
"I wouldn't scream if I were you." warns that same deep voice, betraying a unique accent, unlike his own, and unlike that of a native to Japan. It sounds vaguely familiar. "I'll have to hurt you if you scream, 'cause if you do, those stained angels will come charging in to rescue you and spoil all our fun."  
  
Emery swallows hard, willing himself not to cry or panic. He can feel that man's breath on his face when he speaks, and the weight of his body on top of him is a violation of intimacy he fears more than he feared Youji that fateful night.  
  
Forced to look at his attacker, Emery is beginning to focus more as his vision adjusts further. It isn't that the man has only one eye, but that the other is covered with an eyepatch. Truthfully, Emery is rather surprised it has taken him so long to be able to see what the man looks like, because his skin is so white it practically glows. His hair matches that white almost to the point of being silver, and the scars Emery can feel on that hand are nothing compared to the countless others covering his body.  
  
"Do you promise not to scream?" he asks softly, never quite looking Emery in the eyes, but looking him over with scrutinizing precision. "Nod your pretty little head for me, and I'll move my hand. Refuse, or lie to me, and I'll break your neck. Understand?"  
  
Unwittingly, Emery clenches his eyes shut in desperation and fear. There are four very brave and strong young men who have spent years fighting only yards away from him, but if he calls out to them, he will be dead before they even wake up.  
  
Opening his eyes, Emery stares fearfully back into that tawny eye...and nods.  
  
"Good boy." the man whispers with a frightening curl of his scarred lips. As promised, he removes his hand as well. "Now...hold still for me..."  
  
Emery's stomach lurches forward; all of this feels far to reminiscent of what nearly happened a few nights before, only this time it will be far worse, because help will never come.  
  
The stranger's body is fully on top of his own, but the actions that follow are not quite what he expects. The albino - as Emery is sure he must be - nuzzles oddly into his hair, sniffing up along his neck, and passes his gaze over every inch, studying his face most of all. At last, he looks deep into Emery's tear-filled blue eyes for the first time, and appearing satisfied, tilts his head curiously to the side.  
  
"It's you alright" he smiles faintly. "I didn't believe him, but I'm sure it's you. How did you become so young?"  
  
This is all so strange, Emery's doesn't quite know what to say. So, he merely says the truth. "I don't know. I woke up last week, and I was like this. I don't remember anything."  
  
"Not anything?" the albino repeats, obviously curious. "That's why you're acting so strange. You don't know who I am...do you?"  
  
Slowly, Emery shakes his head. "I have an idea, though." he adds, somewhat reluctantly.  
  
"Really?" the intruder smirks, leaning in closer. "Then who am I?"  
  
Gulp. "...Farfarello...?"  
  
Grin. "And what do you know about Farfarello."  
  
"He...likes to hurt people..."  
  
"Very good..." Farfarello breathes, brushing his pale cheek against Emery's. "...but I won't hurt you. Not yet."  
  
"...you won't...?"  
  
Farfarello shakes his head, though Emery can barely see it with that head buried in the crook of his neck.  
  
Not surprisingly, Emery is not free from all fear after that promise. He is positively paralyzed. Farfarello's hands are not ravaging him as Youji's had, but the presence of him so close is far more unsettling.   
  
"What...are you going to do to me...if you're not going to hurt me...?" Emery questions, with understandable apprehension.   
  
"What are you expecting?" Farfie questions back, before teasingly running his tongue up along Emery's neck.  
  
Filled with a whole new sense of fear, Emery's whole body tenses, and his breath catches in his throat.  
  
"Not *that* I take it." Farf laughs. "I like you this way. Young, afraid, and completely new to me."  
  
(Can you still read my mind?)  
  
"...yes..."  
  
(Then you should be able to figure out for yourself what I'm going to do.)  
  
"I don't wanna look."  
  
(Why not? Too afraid?)  
  
"...very..."  
  
"You should be." Farfarello warns aloud. "I'm dangerous. I've killed even more people than...*you* have. Hehehe. The question is, what should I do with you? I won't tell Crawford where you are. Nagi didn't, so why should I?"  
  
(Nagi...?) Emery thinks to himself. (He's the one...the one I saw the other day.)  
  
"With the old you it was a very different type of fun we'd have together. I don't think you'd be up for that, though. You have the stench of one of *them* now. Like Weiss. I'll have to think very hard for the right punishment for you. But in the meantime..."  
  
Emery blanches as a long dagger with a crescent-shaped handle comes into view and then disappears almost as swiftly. A moment later, he feels its cold steel against his stomach, his shirt lifted up somewhat now, and he honestly doesn't know what he can do to protect himself.  
  
"Remember..." Farfie whispers. "...don't scream..."  
  
Quick, but far from painless, Farfarello slashes the dagger twice against his skin. The cuts are shallow enough to not be serious, but deep enough to scar, and definitely deep enough to bleed.  
  
It takes all of Emery's strength not to scream, but what is truly frightening, in his mind anyway, is what Farfarello does next.  
  
Slithering his way down Emery's body, Farfarello brings himself face to face with the cuts on the boy's stomach. In disgusted shock, Emery's watches as he laps at the blood, a sensation that coils in the young German's stomach. The cuts are so low, nearly down between his hips, that when Farfarello gives a final kiss to the wound he struggles with all his remaining strength to keep himself from reacting.  
  
"X marks the prize." Farfie sneers up at him, for an X is exactly what the marks form. "I'll be back for you."  
  
The wind howls somewhere close by, the curtains still billowing in the breeze's wake, and suddenly, Farfarello is gone.   
  
Emery springs from the bed, rushing to close the window, and latches it shut without a second thought. How he managed to will himself to action so quickly, even he doesn't quite understand. Now, however, the question remains: does he tell Weiss what happened...?  
  
Maybe tomorrow. Right now, he is far too tired, and voices in his head by damned, he is going to get some sleep. After washing out his wound and apply a bandage he found amongst mounds of others under the bathroom sink, he is satisfied enough to return to bed.  
  
Nightmares drug him off to Ran's room in a flash, but a real life terror keeps him in his own. What is the world coming to? Or rather, what is Emery becoming?  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Ooo, I love how this turned out! Ya know, I never originally planned to have Farfie in this fic at all, but this idea struck me and I had to play with it. Hope you enjoyed it.  
  
Well, Em has his powers back, but what comes next? Is it only a matter of time before he becomes you know who again? You'll just have to wait and find out. REVIEW PLEASE!! And I'll keep writing. 


	10. 10

*****10*****   
  
  
  
"I know what happened to Emery."   
  
The men of Weiss stare back in shock at their youngest member, who is seated far too uneasily at the computer in their basement headquarters.   
  
Omi called them down to the mission room at the crack of dawn - before Emery would be awake - to inform them of his recent findings. After being up most of the night, he finally has some answers. After over a week of investigation, he has uncovered the truth.   
  
"Spill it, Omiitchi!" Youji demands, clearly over-tired and impatient. "What made the kid turn into a teenager?"   
  
"...a spell." Omi explains, looking quite exhausted himself. "A poor one, actually. I found translations for that weird language that was on the piece of paper Emmy-chan had, and it turns out most of what happened is just a mistake." Spinning around in his chair, Omi faces the computer screen to bring up the files he had been working on. One of them is the translation for that spell. "The wording is unnatural, so I'm pretty sure he wrote it himself. It was hard to make out, but what I think he was trying to do...is block his telepathy. Not completely, but enough to keep the voices *out* when he wanted and back *in* when he wanted."   
  
"So...what went wrong." Ken asks cautiously, peering over Omi's shoulder at the text.   
  
Omi fidgets, sighing as if to indicate he knows the answer, but wishes the final truth could be something that it isn't. "This word here..." he begins, highlighting one of the odder selections. "...is very similar to 'strengthen' but actually means 'revert'. Only one letter pairing is different, so Schuldrich must have gotten them confused. Then here..." he continues, highlighting a word further on. "...this means 'body' but is very close to 'mind'. The only thing different with them is an accent above the last letter. All of it is so simple, but it was enough to change 'Strengthen my mind to a point of more control' to 'Revert my body to a point of more control'. Why his body has more control at 16 than 22 I have no idea. Maybe that's the age he first got a hold on controlling his powers. Anyway, that's what happened. That's why he's Emery."   
  
"That's not everything." Ran's low and skeptical voice sounds from behind. He has yet to say a word this glum morning, scowling in the corner as always. "There is more writing beneath the phrase you explained."   
  
Indeed, there are a few more lines, and Omi must reluctantly pay them the attention they require. "Gomen, Aya-kun. It's just..." Omi swallows - hard - before collecting himself to continue. "The next part says... 'Grant me control that leaves and comes back at will, control that remains only long enough for me to control it'. Just bad wording really. His telepathy completely left until he had adjusted to being Emery, and I'm pretty sure now that it's back he'll start controlling it better than ever. The spell *will* turn out right, he just messed the translation up a little."   
  
"Wait... 'remains only long enough for'...shit..." Youji repeats, cursing under his breath. "Now that it's back, as soon as he gets used to using it...he's gonna -"   
  
"Don't say it, Youji-kun!" Omi cries, spinning back around in his chair. "We don't know anything for certain."   
  
"Don't say what?" Ken questions, blessedly oblivious. "What'll happen when he starts controlling his powers?"   
  
Omi and Youji look to Ken and each other pitifully, neither wanting to believe their theory is correct, even when they know there is no other way. It makes far too much sense. When Emery begins to control his telepathy again...   
  
"He'll become Schuldrich."   
  
The others turn instantly to Ran, who has a knack for speaking up only when no one else can, and always with what no one else wants to admit.   
  
The truth is clear to Ken now, and forced clear to Youji and Omi as well, who couldn't say it for themselves.   
  
Pushing away from his perch, Ran turns from his teammates and heads upstairs, wearing his accustomed expression of unreadable emotion, instead of the recent half-smile he has been growing so oddly fond of with their short-lived tenant around.   
  
"Ran..." Ken calls, rather softly for him, but enough for the stiff redhead to halt his ascent. "...what do we do now...?"   
  
"We wait." resonates Ran's even reply. "If we're wrong, there is nothing to worry about."   
  
"And if we're right?" Youji challenges back, narrowing his emerald eyes.   
  
Ran remains still and silent a moment, unable to face his companions. Slowly, however, he gathers enough courage to face his apprehensions and his friends as he turns to look down at them from the staircase. "That...is for *him* to decide." he breathes, and turns once more to climb the steps. "...whoever he chooses to be."   
  
  
  
*****   
  
  
  
Breakfast was unbearable.   
  
The whole of Weiss couldn't help staring at Emery as if he might at any moment change shape right before their eyes and become Schuldrich again. As for the poor, young German, Emery barely even noticed the piercing gazes.   
  
He is too full of guilt for not being able to tell them about his midnight visitor, without even understanding why he can't.   
  
Ran alone focuses on what he assumes Emery to be feeling, instead of being consumed by his own fears, as the others have been. He alone picks up on the subtle changes already evident in Emery's behavior.   
  
"What are you hiding?" Ran demands, cornering Emery in the hallway after the others had gone downstairs to open the shop.   
  
"What do you mean, Aya-san?" Emery asks back, doing quite a poor job at sounding innocent - for once.   
  
"You know exactly what I mean." Ran seethes, appearing very threatening as he pins Emery to the wall with both hands holding tightly to the boy's shoulders. "You're acting strangely, and not just because you can hear our thoughts..." Pause. Suddenly, Ran realizes... "We had a meeting about you this morning. I would have thought you'd pick up on that and discover what we discovered. How come you haven't?"   
  
"I...I didn't look. I mean...I kept myself from...hearing you."   
  
"You're getting better at it? Learning to control it?"   
  
"A little."   
  
Damn. This is an obvious setback if their theory pans out, but Ran reminds himself that he has something else to worry about right now. "Forget it. Just tell me the truth. Tell me what you're hiding."   
  
"I'm not -"   
  
"Don't lie to me!!"   
  
Flinch. Ran's grip tightens viciously, digging deep into Emery's narrow shoulders.   
  
"Aya-san, please...you're hurting my again..." Emery whimpers, squirming beneath those powerful hands. "I thought you didn't hate me anymore..."   
  
Defeat. Ran softens, his grip and his expression. "I don't hate you. It may seem that I overreact, the way I did when you first came to stay here, but I only do that when I fear someone I care about is in danger. I'm not saying I care about you...but I don't hate you. I just want to know what you're hiding from us. I know something happened last night. I can tell by watching you. Now...please...tell me what I want to know."   
  
Gazing deep into Ran's violet eyes - eyes that hold so much more than that expressionless face will ever allow to cross its features - Emery's will crumbles. Whatever kept him from telling them about what he went through last night disappears and seems unbelievably foolish.   
  
Emery does his best to hold back the oncoming tears he feels just beyond falling, but it is one more battle he is not going to win. "Aya-san...bitte...forgive me...I didn't know how to tell you..."   
  
"Tell me what?"   
  
"...ye...yesterday...when I was in the shop...I saw...Naoe Nagi standing across the street..."   
  
"You what?!"   
  
"...and last night...before I went to sleep...Far...Farfarello...broke into my room...and did *this*..." With trembling hands, Emery lifts up his shirt and tugs at the waist of his pants to show Ran the 'X' scar between his hips.   
  
On the outside, it is healing well, but it may never fully heal within.   
  
"My God..." Ran breathes, instinctively lowering one of his hands to brush over the newly given cuts on the boy's lower stomach. "He got *this* close...and you said nothing..."   
  
Emery recoils, filled with odd emotion at the feel of Ran's touch in such a tender area. Instantly, Ran pulls away as well, choosing to ignore the flush of color that has rushed to Emery's face.   
  
"I will only ask you this once." Ran states sharply, seeming somehow taller as he towers above the boy. "Are you still in league with Schwartz?"   
  
"No!" Emery shouts in defense. "I swear, Aya-san, I'm not. I'm still Emery. I just...I didn't know who Nagi was at first, and when Farfarello came I...I was so scared, and...something...something inside me told me not to tell you."   
  
"That something...is Schuldrich. And like it or not, he *is* apart of you."   
  
"I know. I know he is, but -"   
  
Emery's eyes spring open. Suddenly, he can't think of anything to say. He is far too preoccupied with what he is hearing. At last, he is beginning to pick up on a little of what Ran had been talking about.   
  
"...a meeting...about me...?" Emery whispers, sliding along the wall to escape Ran and all that his mind is receiving. "...nein...you found out...I...I'm becoming...*him*...nein...bitte, nein...Ich will ihn nicht sein!"   
  
Like a shot, Emery takes off down the hallway, with Ran instantly chasing after him. "Emery!" the panicked redhead calls out, running as fast as he can to keep up. "Matte, Emery! Come back!"   
  
At the top of the stairs, just as the young German is about to sprint down them, Ran catches up and grabs Emery's arm, pulling him back. The force of it topples Emery against him, and the boy needs little more prompting to grab on for dear life and sob into the folds of Ran's shirt.   
  
They stay that way, with Emery clinging to Ran's chest like a lost little boy - how fitting - while the usually stoic redhead does his best to offer comfort.   
  
"You don't have to run." Ran soothes, tentatively stroking Emery's sunset-colored hair. "The others feel just as I do. We're...afraid...of Schuldrich suddenly reentering our lives through you, but we want to believe that you can still be the person we have come to know, even back in that older body, with all those...revolting memories..."   
  
"...you really believe...I can still be...me...?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"And...you'd let me stay here...if I was me...?"   
  
"Emery...is always welcome here."   
  
Within the newly damp creases of Ran's violet-colored shirt, Emery smiles, and pulls away slightly, still holding tight, but now able to look up into his companion's eyes. "Danke...I mean...arigato, Aya-san. You surprise me. Why are you so nice to me now?"   
  
Ran goes fittingly blank, as if wanting to study the question before answering it. Eventually, he makes a choice. It always comes down to a choice. "I was angry. When you first showed up at our doorstep, I wanted to mistrust you because it was difficult to believe someone like Schuldrich could change, even if the outside had changed. After awhile, I realized you really had, and I...admire it."   
  
"...admire?"   
  
"Very few people get a second chance. The idea that someone like...like you and me...could actually find a new life, gives me hope. You give me hope, Emery. That's why I seem different towards you. It just took me awhile to see it."   
  
Emery blushes, at last slipping has arms free from around Ran's waist. "That first morning I woke up with my powers, I heard you thinking something kinda like that...about me. It surprised me then, too."   
  
Now comes the true surprise: Ran actually smiles. Nothing earth-shattering, like a smile from sweet, genki Omi-chan, but one subtle enough to be pure and breathtaking, because it is such a rare occurrence.   
  
Flicking a stray strand of orange hair out of Emery's eyes, Ran gently places a thin hand on the small of his younger friend's back, and guides him down the steps into the shop. "I'm not as bad as I seemed at first, ne?" he jokes lightly. "Sometimes, I wish I could be more like the me I was before I joined Weiss. Especially around my teammates...my friends...but it isn't easy to change when you still remember the crimes you've committed. That doesn't mean I don't have faith in you, Emery. Even if you change back into Schuldrich, I believe you can hold on to who you have become. And if you do, I promise we will never turn you away."   
  
  
  
*****   
  
  
  
"Did you go to see him?"   
  
No reply.   
  
"Did you really see him up close?"   
  
Nothing.   
  
"Did you find out for sure if it was him?"   
  
Still nothing.   
  
"Did he recognize you?"   
  
Not a single, solitary word.   
  
"Damnit, Farfarello, answer me!" Nagi cries in exasperation, positioned just inside the doorway to Farfarello's cell. Entering it completely is never a good idea.   
  
"Yes, I went to see him. Yes, I got close. Yes, it was definitely him. And no, he didn't recognize me." Farfie answers, dead-toned as always when in one of his surreally sane moods. "Satisfied?"   
  
Nagi shivers, ever so slightly. He would never admit to being afraid of his one-eyed teammate, but he has always felt a little out of place, especially around the cryptic albino. "Do you know why he's like that? I mean...things like that don't just happen. One day he's pestering me like always, the next...he disappears...and a week later I find him tending flowers amidst our enemies and looking almost as young as me. What does it mean?"   
  
"It doesn't mean anything." Farfarello replies, stretching out on his tattered bed. The room is rather small, meaning that the two members of Schwartz are actually only a few feet away from each other. "He did it to himself, whatever it is, but I don't think it worked out the way he wanted. It won't last, though. He'll be back. If not...I'll split him in two to find the old Schuldrich again."   
  
"You...you'd do that?"   
  
"I'm the only one with the *right* to do that."   
  
"But...you'd kill him."   
  
A low, humorless laugh escapes Farfarello's throat at those words, and he suddenly gets up from the bed, closing the gap between himself and Nagi in the space of a breath. "I refuse to let him become like one of them. We understand each other, you see. Always have. He won't mind. Not the real him, anyway. It would only be fitting for him to die at my hands if he was trapped as something he never was, and never should be."   
  
"But...aren't you...friends...?" Nagi whispers, tensing from their close proximity, and backing out of the room without realizing what he is doing. "What if...what if he wants to be that way...?"   
  
"Don't you dare say that?!" Farfie growls, shooting out an arm to grasp Nagi by the shoulder. "He would never choose to become one of those lost lambs. I won't let it happen. I won't let God take him back and make him one of His children again. Do you understand, Prodigy? Once you become one of us, the only choice left is to stay with us, or to face death alone. At least I will give him a beautiful death. That...I will gladly give him."   
  
Nagi is tossed back, out of the cell to hit the wall outside. He recovers quickly, despite the spasm in his lower back, and turns to sprint out of the basement, not stopping until reaching the safety of his own room.   
  
Crawford still doesn't know what has befallen his right hand, blocked from seeing any future concerning Schuldrich since the German cursed such an outcome out of protection for himself. Those of Schwartz who do know, are either not on Emery's side, or can do nothing but sit idly by.   
  
Nevertheless, the final outcome will come down to a choice. And only one person can make it.  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Not bad, especially since I've been busy...GRADUATING FROM HIGH SCHOOL! YAY!! Yep, and with honors, too! #10 out of 250. Even got to speak at graduation.   
  
But enough bragging, even if I still can't believe it, I have to fill you people in. The full German phrase Emmy-chan shouted meant, "I don't want to be him!" in case you were wondering. Also, I love how Farf feels it's his mission to bring Schu back or kill him to somehow free his evil spirit. What happens next, and what will Schu choose if and when he becomes himself again? You'll just have to wait and find out. Also, PLEASE REVIEW!! I need to know what you think to keep myself motivated during these crazy summer days. 


	11. 11

*****11*****  
  
Our greatest fears are often that which is most foreign to us. Something that we simply do not understand. A women may fear walking alone at night because she does not know what lurks in the darkness. She doesn't understand it; she isn't apart of it. A man may fear telling the person he loves of his true feelings because he doesn't know how they will react. He doesn't understand the other person's feelings; he would be putting himself out on a very dangerous limb.  
  
Is it stupid to fear something because we don't know how things will turn out? Yes. No one knows for certain what their life is going to be like until they have lived it. Well, one person knows. But He usually doesn't share.  
  
Actually, there is a rather powerful, mortal man with a knack for seeing the future, but even he doesn't know what to expect from recent events. Not this time. Which probably explains his dark mood, and why a certain young boy is terrified to approach him.  
  
"Cra...Crawford...?" little Nagi whispers, peering around the door into Brad's office.  
  
It is still midday, but no light shines in through the window on the far wall, and the false lights on the ceiling are - oddly enough - turned off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. Nagi can barely make out anything inside, other than Brad's stiff outline, sitting in his chair behind the desk, half-turned away from the door.  
  
His face covered in shadow, the American takes no notice of his young apprentice.  
  
"Crawford?" Nagi says again, cautiously entering, and taking small, timid steps further inside the room. "...Brad?" he tries, risking the use of the older man's first name. It isn't a rule not to use it, or anything, but the only one who ever does...ever did...was Schuldrich.  
  
"What?" Brad snarls, at last giving an answer, although the word drips of venom and fueling anger.  
  
"I...I just wanted to see if...if you...ahhh...well...if you wanted..."  
  
"I don't have time for your sniveling, Nagi. If you have something to say, say it and get out!"  
  
Nagi involuntarily flinches. First, he is frightening out of his mind by the lunatic downstairs, and now he is being sent into fits of fear once again, this time by a man he once considered a father.  
  
An abusive father, at best, but still a father.  
  
"I wanted to see if...you needed anything."  
  
"I'm fine." Brad answers shortly, not doing a very good job at making that statement sound truthful.  
  
"I know..." Nagi starts in again, following along with Brad's denial. "...but...you haven't eaten anything all day. I don't think you ate anything yesterday, either. In fact, you haven't been your self since...since..." he trails off, retreated ever so slightly after Brad shoots him a very nasty look. Clearly, this isn't a topic he wishes to discuss.  
  
"Get out." Brad commands, turning to avoid the boy's gaze once again.  
  
"But Brad -"  
  
"Don't...call me that."  
  
Nagi quickly swallows his words. "Gomen...Crawford. But...you can't keep doing this. All you ever do is work and worry. Yes, worry. I know you're worried about him."  
  
"I said, get out!" Brad yells, spinning his chair around to face the window and block out Nagi's words.  
  
Steadying himself, Nagi takes a breath, and clenches his fists so tight, they become whiter than the albino down in the basement. "No." the boy breathes, and suddenly, Brad's chair whips back around, though Brad had nothing to do with it. "You need to talk about this. Schwartz can't function if our leader is falling apart. And you *are*. I know you haven't been able to see anything about him. I don't know why, either, but something is keeping you from getting any premonitions that might tell you what happened to Schul -"  
  
"Don't." Brad stops him, still sounding dark in his tone, but softer, as if pained by the idea of hearing that name.  
  
"Yes, I *will* say it." Nagi shoots back. "Schuldrich. I'll say it again - Schuldrich. Schuldrich is gone, and it's driving you mad not knowing what happened to him. You can't see if he's dead or alive. If he was taken or if he left. If he misses you...as much as you miss him."  
  
"Stop this. Stop this right now, you insolent, little -"  
  
"What? What are you going to do if I keep going? You've done everything else to me. What's left for you to do?"  
  
Mentally holding Brad down in his chair, Nagi advances on the desk, shaking despite his courage in standing up to his leader - the man who raised him. The man who taught him how to hate.  
  
"The only thing that makes it bearable to live this way, is that...even in a morbid sense...Schwartz is like a family. At least to me. Now, I need to know the truth. Why do you want him back? Is it for him, for you, or just for the mission? If you can't admit the truth, then maybe it's better that he's out there instead of trapped in here with the rest of us."  
  
"That's it!" Brad cries, forcing himself out of the chair. Nagi instantly backs down; Brad's anger has risen enough to overcome the young telekinetic's hold. "I want him back because this is where he belongs. He doesn't fit anywhere else. I don't need another reason. Do you understand, Nagi? Or do I have to make it more clear to you that Schwartz is for life?"  
  
Nagi continues to back away, though his expression remains resolute.  
  
(...once you become one of us...the only choice left is to stay with us...or to face death alone...Schwartz is for life...)  
  
"You don't have to make anything clear to me...Crawford." Nagi answers, devoid of true expression in his voice. "I know what I came to find out." Defiantly, he turns to leave, but pauses just as he is about to walk through the door. "You don't deserve him."  
  
Brad's pulse quickens, unaware of the reason, as he watches Nagi leave, without stopping the boy to divulge punishment for such brash disrespect. He wouldn't have been able to move anyway.  
  
(You don't deserve him.)  
  
"Hmph..." Brad sneers, forming himself back into the chair and turning to glare out the window. "What fantasy world is that boy living in...?"  
  
*****  
  
(Come on, Bradley, I just wanna have a little fun.)  
  
(How many times must I say this? We don't have time for your games.)  
  
(I'll be back home before you even miss me. Pretty please. Let me make him squirm.)  
  
(The mission was not to kill, Schuldrich, just to frighten. Some things can be solved in a civilized manner. Besides, we may need him alive later on.)  
  
(Him? Gimme a break. We don't need him. Come on. You know you can't refuse me.)  
  
(What makes you think that?)  
  
(My devilish charm, of course.)  
  
(.........)  
  
(Please...)  
  
(...fine. But clean up the mess afterwards, and if you get caught -)  
  
(I know, I know. I'm on my own.)  
  
"On my own...?"  
  
"Hey, Em, you finished with the till yet?"  
  
"...always on my own..."  
  
"Em...?"  
  
"...warum...warum muß ich allein sein?!"  
  
"Emery, snap out of it!"  
  
Jerking upwards, Emery's eyes fly open, his breathing labored and erratic. He had been hunched over near the cash register, eyes tightly closed, with beads of sweat forming over his crinkled forehead.  
  
Ken stands beside him now, rightly concerned, and places a hand gently on the boy's shaking shoulders. "You okay...?"  
  
Blinking back tears that sting his cobalt blue eyes, Emery gradually calms himself down, and offers Ken the closest thing he can to a grateful smile. "Ja...I mean...Hai, Ken-san." he stammers, flinching away from that kind touch on his shoulder. "I was just...having a bad daydream."  
  
"Don't lie to us, Emery." sounds a new voice from behind them. "Lying to your friends is the first step in losing them."  
  
From out of the back room, Ran emerges with a thin-lipped frown, and begins to make his way towards them. Soon, Youji and Omi appear at the cashier counter as well, after closing up the front and ushering the last of the customers outside.  
  
"You've been a little off again today." Ran begins softly, attempting to hold back his mistrust. "My promise to you holds only if you are honest with us. What's been going on?"  
  
Surrounded now, though by support more than suspicion, Emery folds. As before, something inside of him had kept him from telling them the truth. But the part of him that is truly him, is overcome with relief that he finally can.  
  
Throughout this new day, he has been afflicted with the past.  
  
"Every now and then...I get these flashes..." he begins, sitting down in the chair beside the register, and lowering his gaze to the floor. "I see myself as...*him*...and watch scenes from the life I don't remember. Didn't remember. It's still vague and chopped up, but it's more than just the knowledge of what I did. It's as if I was really there."  
  
"You *were*, chibi." Youji smiles painfully, leaning back against the counter. "But don't get so choked up over this. Memories can't hurt you."  
  
"But what they bring can." Emery snaps in reply. "The more I remember, the closer I am to becoming -"  
  
"To remaining...who you are." Ran finishes, and despite his recent change towards Emery, and the others, his teammates are taken slightly aback. Ran. Kindness. They don't generally go together.  
  
"He's right, Emmy-chan." Omi chimes in, oozing enthusiasm and optimism as always. "You don't have to be afraid."  
  
"I know. I know I shouldn't be. But some of the things I remember are so...urg!" he cuts off, reaching up to grasp his sudden, throbbing head. "...bleiben sie von mir fern...nehmen sie mich weg nicht...Ich will nicht sein was ich bin...bitte...hilft...jemand mir!!"  
  
The members of Weiss instinctively back away, all wearing masks of concern and undue fear at this sudden outburst. Emery is not himself in these declarations. He doesn't even sound like himself.  
  
Still grasping his head, the young German twists and turns, snapping from whatever memory he had been reliving, to another. "Und wer haben sie angenommen sind zu sein?" questions his lilting, nasal voice, at times staring into nothing, at others holding his eyes closed as tightly as possible. "Brad Crawford? Was wollen sie mit mir?" He jerks again, pushing past the others into the empty shop.   
  
"K'so...what should we do?" Ken whispers, eyeing Emery just as nervously as the others. Their young tenant has been having odd episodes all day, but none have wracked his body in such a manner. Few have even caused the other to notice anything was wrong. "He's freakin' out. What if he turns back now? What if -"  
  
"I do what I'm ordered to do." Emery continues, in Japanese once again, back into memories of his more recent past. "I also do what I want to do, which usually ends up being a hellava lot more fun."  
  
Collapsing to his knees, the others rush to enclose him, all on edge, and all tensing their trigger fingers against weapons that aren't even there. Old habits die very, very hard, after all.  
  
"It isn't all honey, all the time. Thoughts mess you up, Farf. Sometimes...I don't know which are mine...and which belong...to someone else. I forget myself and...I...I...I want this to stop!" he cries at last, shouting the last line as himself - as Emery - and falling back on the floor exhausted and out of breath.  
  
He isn't unconscious, but lies there breathing heavily, eyes closed, while the others stand hovering over him, debating what to do.  
  
At long last, Ran bends down and scoops Emery into his arms, taking control of the situation, as is his rightful area of expertise. Naturally, this actions immediately gets the boy's attention, forcing him fully awake, but even if he had the strength left to struggle, he wouldn't have wanted to.   
  
"Aya-san...what are you doing...?" he questions, his voice dripping with fatigue.  
  
"Taking you upstairs to put you to bed." he answers, motioning for the others to follow him upstairs since the shop is already locked up. "You need your rest after that...attack. We'll bring you something to eat in a few minutes."  
  
Emery doesn't argue, and neither do the others. They all could use a little rest after that.  
  
*****  
  
Knock. Knock.  
  
"Are you decent?" Ran calls through the door, already dressed for bed himself.  
  
"Yep. You can come in now, Aya-san." Emery answers from his spot beneath the covers. He is once again in Ran's room, in Ran's bed, and has been since the evening first began. "Thanks for letting me sleep with you again." he smiles as Ran enters, following the older man's lithe, white outline move across the room. "I know you didn't want it to become a habit, since I'm old enough to sleep by myself, but I guess I'm...even more afraid now...than I was that night I tried to run from the shadows in the hallway."  
  
Ran offers a stiff nod, somewhat distracted with hanging his clean clothes up in the closet, and surfaces only to continue moving about the room.  
  
Blue eyes descend upon his form and devour it, gazing at the curves and gentle movements of his smooth body. Emery knows he shouldn't be watching Ran with such naughty thoughts fluttering about in his mind, but he can't help himself.   
  
The tall red-head's chest is bare, his black pajama pants hanging low on his hips, revealing the indent of his hipbones, and sending a cold shiver through Emery's body at the sight.  
  
(He's so beautiful...and so kind when he allows himself to be...)  
  
"How have you been feeling?" Ran asks, itching with residues of concern. He closes the shades on the window then, before resuming his tidying up, mechanically putting things away where they belong. "It's good that you ate a healthy meal, but I want to make sure you haven't had any more...moments...like you had downstairs."  
  
(He's worried about me...)  
  
"I feel fine, Aya-san. Haven't had a single episode since. Maybe it was just a fluke."  
  
(I don't care what it was. Not if I can stay this way. I just hope the faith they all have in me is worth all this trouble. I don't want to let them down.)  
  
"Good. It's almost certain that you will turn back eventually, but the more time you spend as Emery, the more - hopefully - you will want to remain him when Schuldrich takes over."  
  
At last, Ran is finished with his nightly rituals, and bends over the alarm clock on the night stand to set it for morning. The table is on Emery's side of the bed, so Ran is now extremely close to the young boy. Close enough to touch.  
  
(Just look how his hair falls over his face...bright red...with eyes like lilacs lit on fire...and perfect features so white...so...incredibly...)  
  
Stunning. Not just Ran, but what Emery does next. Truly, it is a stunning act.  
  
Lunging forward, Emery captures Ran's all too near lips, consuming them in a kiss that not only surprises the recipient for its sudden arrival, but for its hungry, forceful appetite.  
  
When he at last realizes what is happening, pushing past his initial shock, Ran pulls away, leaving Emery flushed and desperate for more. "What do you think you're doing?!" he barks, his ears turning bright red, though most of his face remains white. "Why...why did you do that?"  
  
Whatever surge of bravery and dominance it was that pulsed through Emery's young veins, surges out again, and the poor boy is mortified by how vulnerable he has just become.  
  
Turning completely red himself, Emery draws back against the headboard, shivering uncontrollably. "I...I...I don't...I didn't...oh dear, I...I...please...please don't hate me..."  
  
Ran takes a calming breath, studying Emery carefully, and wearing his emotionless mask all too well. "I've told you before, I don't hate you, and I'm not about to start. I am, however, going to ask you this again. Why did you kiss me?"  
  
"Because...I had to." answers a very small voice, almost too soft for Ran to hear.  
  
Scowling doubtfully, Ran backs away and moves around to *his* side of the bed. Before climbing in, he spends a good minute or more merely staring at Emery, watching him, and causing the boy to tremble even more than he already is.  
  
Emery doesn't know what to do. He can't think of anything else he can possibly say to make this better. He doesn't know why he did it, he just did. It was an impulse. A very foolish impulse, but it had been out of his control the moment Ran's perfect face and perfect body came close enough for him to act on his desires.  
  
Life's like that sometimes. We wait and wait and wait for one of those perfect moments, and when it comes, we act, whether it is a sane choice or not. Regret only comes from not doing anything at all, looking back on it to wonder: what if? Shame, however, can accompany every outcome.  
  
After what seems like endless hours, Ran flicks off the lamp to his right, and moves through the darkness to climb onto the bed. Emery sulks, sliding down until the covers are right up to his chin. What he doesn't notice by doing this, though, is that Ran is not slipping under the covers with him.  
  
Crawling across the bed like a graceful, sly Tomcat, Ran sneaks over to Emery's side and stares down into his frightened, boyish face.  
  
Before Emery has time to think or move away, Ran claims his still damp lips completely, while two white hands gently hold him down. The kiss is much different coming from Ran's point of control. It is softer, more tender and less clumsy. It moves and whispers, tasting every inch of soft skin, but still avoiding going any deeper. It is chaste, while at the same time filling Emery with more of his naughty little thoughts. Very naughty thoughts.  
  
"Wh...why...did you do that...Aya-san...?" Emery questions, thoroughly breathless and fully flushed from head to toe.  
  
Still holding onto slender shoulders and hovering above the boy's smaller frame, Ran merely tilts his head. "Because I had to." he repeats in answer, allowing the small corners of his lips to curl into a barely visible smile. "Now...go to sleep."  
  
And upon these commanding words, Ran rolls away, back to his own side of the bed, and at last slips under the covers.   
  
Meanwhile, only inches from his tormentor, Emery's body is on fire. His own kiss had been so rushed and haphazard, but Ran's kiss back to him had been light enough, sensual enough, to cause a very distinctive reaction.  
  
"That's it?" he whimpers, turning to Ran to discover the older man's back is now facing him. "You kiss me like that and then just tell me to go to sleep?"  
  
"What were you expecting?"  
  
"More!"  
  
With a raised eyebrow and critical gaze, Ran turns over to look back at the boy, offering no signs of sympathy. "More? You're just a child."  
  
"Then why did you -"  
  
"Because I did. Because the moment was there and I took it, just like you."  
  
"That's not fair." Emery grumbles, glaring in reply. "If you think of me as nothing but a child then you shouldn't have kissed me back. You're playing with me. Playing with how I feel about you, and..." he trails off, realizing he has once again set himself up to be vulnerable.  
  
"Your feelings for me?" Ran repeats, sitting up on his elbows. "What feelings? I'll admit that kissing you back was...a thoughtless act on my part, but what exactly do you feel for me that made you do it first?"  
  
"I...I..."  
  
(...I love you. No! I don't love him...do I? Oh God, I don't know. Maybe I do...)  
  
"I'm not sure...how I feel...but I feel something...and it hurts that you would...tease me the way you did."  
  
"I wasn't teasing you."  
  
"Then what were you doing? Acting on the moment? That isn't fair to me, either."  
  
(What are you thinking...Aya-san...?)  
  
(This is insane. He's right, I'm not being fair. But...why did I kiss him like that...? He isn't just a child. He's young, but old enough to make his own decisions. So...what about me? What do I want? It isn't right for me to want...him.)  
  
"Why isn't it right?" Emery asks innocently, forgetting for the moment that the information he just heard was not spoken to the open world.  
  
Strangely enough, Ran gives little reaction to the fact that his mind had been invaded. "Because it isn't." he answers simply. "You're 16 years old. I stopped Youji from -"  
  
"From doing things to me that I didn't want. I never said I didn't want this. That I didn't want you..."  
  
Neither able to think of what to say next, an uncomfortable silence settles between them. The room feels stiflingly hot, and yet Emery is wracked with chills coming from no where, and that Ran seem immune to. After all, everyone's favorite Ice Queen is impartial to the cold.  
  
Gaining confidence, perhaps out of wishful thinking more than anything else, Emery inches closer to Ran, and taking a leap of faith that may just send him tumbling down a thousand high-rise floors above the ground, he meets his lips to Ran's for a third time that night.  
  
The stone-cold red-head does not fight this renewed sensation, but kissed back, allowing those young lips to set his body ablaze. This time, he daringly brushes his tongue against those tantalizing lips, and Emery's mouth parts ever so slightly, allowing him entrance.   
  
Although the younger of the two had initiated the kiss, Ran takes control, and Emery gladly allows it. More gentle than most would suspect from such a pillar of ice, Ran strokes the inside of Emery mouth, tasting something like sugar, anticipation, and stale memories that burn with every rush of flavor.  
  
Not one to lose control completely, Emery moves his hands to Ran's bare chest and plays across the smooth muscles. Sliding ever closer, he then begins to brush his foot up and down Ran's leg, needing that intimacy, that rush of skin upon skin.  
  
Whatever defenses Ran had left to stop himself are burnt away by this kindling fire between them, and he finds himself pulling up on Emery's T-shirt, managing to slip it off over the boy's head between kisses.   
  
Soon, they are inseparably close, hands straying, kisses deepening. Ran pulls away from the kiss soon after, allowing them both to breathe, and moves to brush his lips against the side of the boy's neck, up an down, before going lower to his shoulders, to the soft skin of his rapidly rising and falling chest.  
  
Emery's head is tossed back, his body bucking forward, entwining their legs together. He moves his hands lower on Ran's chest, down to those tempting hip bones, and strokes at their gentle groove. A groan escapes Ran's busy lips at this, and Emery is well aware of the reaction he has caused with his small, playful hands.  
  
This friction, this fire, is ready to erupt and boil over, making it impossible for them to stop. All too soon, there will be no turning back.  
  
Craving to hear that feral sound from the back of Ran's throat once again, Emery slides his hands lower, down the front of Ran's loose, cotton pants, moving his hands and his body to the rhythm that has began playing between them.  
  
Ran's violet eyes widen at the feel of those soft digits working their way lower, and he suddenly realizes that they are far too close. Too close, too far. He can't let this happen.  
  
"Stop." Ran breathes, grasping those hands before they can reach their intended destination. "This isn't right."  
  
"Please...Aya-san...please, don't stop..." Emery begs, allowing his hands to be moved, but curling their legs more tightly together and madly striking kisses at Ran's skin.  
  
"We have to stop." Ran states firmly, pulling out of reach of those lips, and forcing their legs to untangle. Only his arms remain around Emery's waist. "We'd regret this in the morning."  
  
"No, please, I want -"  
  
"Listen to me. I am not rejecting this, or you, but it is too soon. The future is too unclear."  
  
"That's why I don't want you to stop. What if I change back and choose to leave? I'll never know this feeling again. Your touch, your kiss, your heart beating so fast I can hear it vibrating against my chest."  
  
"Haven't we discussed this enough for you to have faith in yourself."  
  
"Nothing is absolute, Aya-san. You know that."  
  
"Exactly. We don't know anything for certain. Have patience...and go to sleep. You'll see things my way in time. I'm ashamed I let things go as far as they did."  
  
"Why? Because I'm just a child?" Emery pouts, staring with puppy-dog eyes back into Ran's stern features.  
  
"No. I shouldn't have said that. I'm ashamed, because passion like what you thought you were feeling should come over time, only after knowing without a doubt that you want no one else in the world but the one you are with."  
  
"But I -"  
  
"You...are still young. Never rush into anything. Most mistakes in life are made because we act before we think. Please, try and understand what I'm telling you."  
  
Ever so slowly, Emery's childish expression crumbles, and he knows that Ran is right. Snuggling innocently against his companion's chest, he sighs, curling a small finger around a strand of Ran's flame-red hair. "Gomen, Aya-san. I guess I want something that's more adult than I am, but I'm wanting it with all a child's demanding."  
  
Ran releases a delicious laugh, something even more rare than his smiles. Then, unexpectedly, he speaks again. "It's Ran."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"My name is Ran. You've heard the others say it every now and then."  
  
"Oh. I guess I have. But...you introduced yourself as Fujimiya *Aya* that first night."  
  
"Old habit."  
  
Emery nods, still playing with that fiery strand of hair. "So...you want me to call you Ran-san?"  
  
"No. I want you to call me *Ran*."  
  
The exasperated tone of Ran's voice causes Emery to giggle, before digging deeper into the red-head's thin but comfortable chest. "Ran..." he purrs. "...can we change that rule about this not becoming a habit?"  
  
"I'll think about it."  
  
Grin. "Danke, Ranny-chan."  
  
"Eh? Ranny-chan?"  
  
Grin again. "Just kidding."  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Oh, I loved that! Believe me, I had no idea I was going to let them lead me down that road. Anyhoo, What did you think of Braddy-kins finally getting some airtime? I think there may have been some subtle BradxSchu hints, and rightly so. I also liked how Nagi chose not to tell Brad what he knows, and his reasons for not telling him, but I need FEEDBACK!!! As for Schu's German, to the best of my ability, in order:  
  
...why...why must I be alone...?  
  
...stay away from me...don't take me away...I don't want to be what I am...please...someone...help me!!  
  
And who are you supposed to be? Brad Crawford? What do you want with me?  
  
If I got some wrong, at least I tried. As for what's next, keeping reading, and I'll keep posting. But please, I beg, REVIEW!!! 


	12. 12

*****12*****  
  
Emery felt terrible. A massive headache, muscle pains, a fever, and a stomach that insists on doing backflips and cartwheels, have all shown up to wish him a fine - unbearable - good morning. He slept in, he must have, because the sun glaring into his eyes from the window is higher in the sky than it should be. Turning his head, he realizes that he is in bed alone. In...Ran's bed alone. Where has the pale red-head gone, and why did he allow Emery to sleep until -  
  
"One o'clock!!" the young German cries, grasping the clock radio in disbelief. He instantly regrets jolting up so abruptly, and crumbles back down onto the bed. "Ohhh...he musta let me sleep because of this fever...and...uhh...oh, yuck...I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."  
  
"Don't even think about it." interrupts a commanding, deep, male voice. Ran slips into the room, carrying a wet cloth and a pale of water.   
  
Omi follows closely behind with a bowl of soup, but Emery waves it away, the very idea making him turn 50 shades of green. "But...Emmy-chan...you have to eat something." the blonde insists, sitting on the edge of the bed. "The body can't heal without food."  
  
"Wh...what's wrong with me, anyway...?" Emery groans, shivering a little as Ran places the cloth on his burning forehead.  
  
"I was hoping you could tell *us* that." the taller man replies. "I've never heard of anyone coming down with something so severe in so short a time. I woke up to you drenched in sweat and shifting around like you were in agony."  
  
"...I am..."  
  
"Then maybe a bite to eat will -"  
  
"Uhhh...." Emery groans, shooting down Omi's renewed try at getting something solid in his stomach.  
  
"Fine." Omi grumbles, heading back out of the room. "But I'll be back sooner or later, so toughen up. You're skinny enough as it is. We don't want you to waste away on us."  
  
Despite his aching...everything, Emery smiles meekly as Omi leaves the room, and then shifts to look at Ran, who has taken Omi's place on the bed.  
  
Bringing the back of his hand gently to Emery's cheek, Ran tests the temperature of the boy's flushed skin. "You're practically on fire." he comments, tight-lipped and very serious. "I don't like this. It doesn't make any sense. Omi keeps this place sterile enough to survive *Youji's* constant escapades; we hardly ever get sick around here."  
  
"...stop." Emery breathes, his mind reeling in a haze so thick he can barely see through it. "You sound...too worried...you're scaring me..."  
  
Ran grimaces, pulling his outstretched hand back to his side. "I wish I didn't have to sound so worried, but I think...we *all* think...this is a sign...that your time is almost up."  
  
If Emery wasn't truly frightened before, he certainly is now. "Don't say that...please..."  
  
"It's the only thing that explains it. The spell should have worn off days ago, but here you are. You're body can't handle it anymore, and you're fighting the change."  
  
"Of course I'm fighting it!!" Emery cries, trying to sit up, but succeeding only in collapsing back again. "I...I don't want to turn back..."  
  
Almost impossibly gentle and caring, even after the previous night's revelations between them, Ran brings a hand to Emery's face again, this time holding his chin within those white fingers, while brushing a stubborn tear away with his thumb.  
  
Ran wants to offer comfort, but how can he? What comfort can he possibly give? Anything he says would be a lie, and wouldn't be fair to Emery, even if the young boy wants to hear one.  
  
"Think of all that has happened in these short, impossible days." Ran begins, still holing Emery's face in his hand. "You've beaten every odd so far. Even me. And I am *never* beaten. Being around you, how I've started to act in so short a time, takes *me* by surprise, and I usually don't like surprises, either. Everything about this is impossible. But you *will* turn back into Schuldrich, that is certain. Fighting it will only make you feel worse."  
  
"Are you...telling me to give up...?" Emery whimpers, allowing a few more tears to slip down his sickly-pale cheeks.  
  
"No. I am asking you to give *in*. At least for a moment. And once you become him again, you can take back control and remain who you are." Ran's voice fades away, almost before he can finish what he had meant to say, and his hand slips away as well. It slips away, but only to find the weakened grip of Emery's fingers as he laces his own between them. "Perhaps this, too, seems impossible, but that is why I believe you can do it."  
  
Leaning forward, Ran brushes his lips against Emery's forehead, remaining close enough for his breath to tickle the boy's skin when he pulls away. Emery blushes, longing to see that minuscule smile on the red-head's face stretch wider.  
  
"Besides..." Ran starts in again, pulling back completely. "...if you grow up, I can stop feeling like such a pedifile. It's bad for my brooding image to act so motherly."  
  
Emery laughs right in Ran's face at that. He can't help it; the serious, and yet almost humorous way Ran had said it, was one of the funniest things he'd ever heard in his life. Or, at least, remembered hearing.  
  
An elegantly raised eyebrow appraises this childish laughter, but Ran eventually relaxes into a slightly larger smile than he had allowed before, even if laughing along is a little bit more than he can offer.  
  
"Danke...Ran." Emery smiles, still feeling absolutely horrible from one nerve-ending to all the others, but feeling at least a little bit better where it counts.  
  
*****  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"You're going after him, aren't you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Are you really going to kill him?"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"How can you do this?"  
  
Not a single, solitary word.  
  
"Farfarello, answer - !"  
  
Swish! A knife cuts through the air and stops right at the base of little Nagi's neck. The boy freezes, beads of sweat instantly collecting on his forehead.  
  
Following his teammate outside and into the rapidly approaching night, Nagi feared the worst, and with good reason. Now, the Irishman has whirled around, and is holding the boy's shoulders with one powerful hand, while the other holds that deadly knife.  
  
"I'm going to the flower shop. Yes, I am going there because of him. Yes, I plan to kill him if he is still that sniveling, little boy. And the reason I can...is because I can." Farfie growls, pulling Nagi in close, pressed up against him. "Do you really want to try and stop me...Nagi?"  
  
The young telekinetic has been holding his breath, and only now releases it, shuddering at the feel of cold steel against his skin. "I...I won't let you do it!" he screams, tears springing to his eyes from the pressure of Farfarello's vice-like grip on his shoulder.  
  
Narrowing his golden eye, Farfarello increases that grip, forcing Nagi to cry out in pain. The courage in Nagi's words are brave and just, but not smart.  
  
"Ah! Le...let me go!" Nagi pleads. "Don't...make me hurt you..."  
  
"Hurt *me*?" Farf barks, hardly intimidated.   
  
He knows full well that Nagi has the power to rip him apart - that boy is probably the most powerful of them all. Problem is, he is rarely focused enough, fearless enough, to unleash what he is truly capable of.  
  
"Why don't you turn around, go back inside, and crawl under the covers, little boy." Farfarello sneers, pulling Nagi even closer, if possible. "I can't hurt you for real, because Crawford would see it coming and kill me first. I can, however, come very close. I can cause you just enough pain to haunt you for weeks before doing any serious damage. To hell with being punished. I *will* hurt you if you continue standing in my way."  
  
Deja vu. Nagi is tossed back, landing roughly on the cold, hard, unrelenting ground just outside Schwartz headquarters. Farfarello turns on his heels, back the way he had been heading, and leaves Nagi there, left behind in the dirt.  
  
Most days, Farfarello is the only member of Schwartz Nagi feels comfortable around. He can't talk to Brad, because the American is always so busy, and has never been the loving, father type. He can't usually talk to Schu, either, because the German always seems to be playing with his mind. But he can talk to Farf. He usually can, anyway. Knowing to stray from topics like God and family, Nagi and Farfarello talk mainly about everyday life, as well as about their fellow teammates. Nagi isn't stupid enough to skip into Farf's room on one of the Irishman's more "off" days, but they get along. Until now. Now, Farfarello's little obsession - his strange connection to Schu and their similar love for hurting the masses - has taken over.  
  
Slowly getting up from the ground and rubbing what will be a very bruised arm in the morning, Nagi watches Farfarello leave, knowing he has the power to stop what is about to happen, but unable to see past the fear holding him back.  
  
*****  
  
"Feeling better, chibi?"  
  
Emery opens his weary eyes, still lying in Ran's bed with the covers pulled up to his neck. He smiles with a little more strength than he had that morning as Youji enters, carrying what appears to be a bowl of soup.  
  
"Omi made me bring it." the blonde explains, noticing the not so enthusiastic look Emery is giving the offered meal. "Don't snub it; you haven't eaten all day. You look better, though. Not quite as chalky as you were this morning."  
  
Sitting up to begrudgingly accept the bowl of soup, Emery nods, grateful for Youji's unique compliment, and glad to be feeling more alive and well.  
  
"See, I told you eating was a good idea." Omi grins, bounding in to join them just as Emery is about to start in on the soup.  
  
"Just giving in, Omi-chan." Emery smiles sadly in reply. The others don't know yet. They don't know why he suddenly feels better, but he knows full well that he has to tell them. "Ehh...where's Ken-san? I -"  
  
"Right here, Em." the brunette in questions responds, slipping in to add to the group surrounding Emery's bed. Well, Ran's bed, but it certainly seems to be Emery's right now. "Finally closed up shop for the day." Ken grins, crouching down on the floor, since spots on the bed are already taken. "How ya doin'? Ice Queen Aya has been extra tense all day with you feeling so crummy. You sure have a strange affect on him."  
  
Emery blushes. The other don't know *that*, either, but he isn't about to give away all of his secrets. "I...I'm glad you're all here. I have to...tell you something."  
  
The members of Weiss look on earnestly, flashing each other a few worried looks, and tossing questioning glances at Ran when he finally sneaks in behind them, leaning against the wall.   
  
Everyone is there - everyone who needs to be. Sadly, in Emery's mind, it may be the last time he ever sees them this way. Watching him with caring eyes. Thinking of him like an added member to the family. And treating him like a human being, something Schuldrich hasn't been in years.  
  
"I felt sick today, because...my body wants to change back...and my mind wouldn't let it." The young red-head begins, his soup long forgotten and placed on the nightstand. "I can't fight it forever, and if I try, I'll just end up killing myself from the fever. I...I'm so sorry...but I've decided...to stop fighting altogether."  
  
Green, blue, and brown eyes all widen in realization. Violet eyes remain still. It had to come to this eventually.  
  
"I can feel the memories trying to push their way back...so close..." Emery whispers, closing his eyes, and allowing a strange wave to wash over him. The others do not feel what he feels, but they certainly see it. Something unexplainable quivers over Emery's face, like static on a Television screen. "All I have to do is drop my defenses, and...it'll all rush back. After that...it's only a matter of time...maybe minutes...maybe seconds...and I'll be..." Emery opens his eyes. "...Schuldrich."  
  
"Hold on a minute!" Youji cries, standing up from his perch on the bed. "Stop fighting? Let it all rush back? If you can fight it...then fight it!"  
  
"Youji -" Ran tries, looking even more serious than usual.  
  
"Don't." the blonde cuts in. "I'm sure your immense wisdom put these thoughts into his head, but to me it sounds like losing hope, and I'm not ready to do that yet!"  
  
"Yotan..." Omi squeaks, getting up from his perch as well, and placing a calming hand on Youji's arm. "...think about what you're saying. I don't want to lose Emery more than any of us do, but...we can't fight nature."  
  
"He's right." Ken chimes in sadly, standing up from the floor. "One way or another, this *is* gonna happen. Better if we're prepared for it, ne?"  
  
Moving in closer to the group now, Ran joins his circle of friends, all hovering over Emery while ganging up on Youji at the same time. Soon, the noted playboy has no choice but to back down. He knows they're right. The fantasy of second chances without repercussions was merely wishful thinking.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere, just...growing up." Emery offers, eyeing his newfound friends as they settle back into their places. This time, Ran moves around to the other side of the bed and sits beside him. "I promise I'll stay. I'm still me. I'll still be me. I won't let the...the monster I was...change the man I want to be."  
  
Even through his heartfelt words, tears begin falling from Emery's bright blue eyes. He wants so badly to believe what he is telling them is the truth, but he just doesn't know. There is no way he can be certain Schuldrich will retain what he has found. There is no way to know if Schuldrich will even care.  
  
"I...I want..." Emery tries, wracked with sobs, and unable to lift his gaze back up and look his companions in the eyes. "I just...want..." he sniffles, but the words won't come.  
  
Boldly, Ran shifts his position on the edge of the bed and pulls the sobbing boy against his chest, tenderly stroking the tousled fire of his hair. A mild glance of surprise or even disapproval may have shot out from one or more of the other men around them, but nothing was spoken aloud to protest. All in all, anything that can melt a little of Aya's ice is a good thing, and anything that can comfort Emery right now is even better.  
  
"Ich...will mit ihnen bleiben...andauernd..." Emery whimpers into the folds of Ran's shirt, addressing his slip of the German tongue to Ran as much as to everyone else.  
  
"Forever...is a very long time." Ran replies, and everyone takes a major double-take in how he knew how to reply at all.  
  
"You speak German, Aya-kun?" Omi inquires curiously.  
  
"Enough to understand 'forever', and to know that as much as we want Emery to stay, we have to be practical."  
  
"What are you saying...?" Youji presses.  
  
Ran looks over at him across the bed, to Omi on the far end, and Ken lower on the floor. They'll understand. And Emery has to, too. "I'm saying...let's have faith...and wait and see what happens. Are you ready...Emery?"  
  
Gradually raising his damp eyes from Ran's even damper chest, Emery stares up at him, and turns slightly to follow his gaze over the same path Ran just followed.  
  
Youji. Omi. Ken. And back again. Back to Ran, the most beautiful creature in the world. Sometimes a week can feel like a missed lifetime, and that is exactly what Emery is about to lose.  
  
"I can do this...if you stay..." Emery whispers. "...if all of you stay...maybe Emery will stay, too..."  
  
Release. Emery's arms are still wrapped around Ran as they had been while he cried so helplessly, but there is a definite release in his eyes. Followed...by a cascade of far more than he expected...into his mind.  
  
(...Emery Schuldaussen...you are property of Rosenkreuz now...property of Estet...)  
  
Emery jerks, tossing his head back in a downpour of orange strands.  
  
(...Welcome to Schwartz...Mr. Schuldaussen...)  
  
Small arms cling tighter to Ran, even as the young boy's back arches in pain.  
  
(...I'm not Emery Schuldaussen anymore, *Mr* Crawford...forget you ever heard the name...call me...)  
  
Biting his lower lip to suppress a scream, Emery releases Ran's now bruised neck, falling back onto the bed. The others can hear nothing of what he is hearing, feel nothing of what he is feeling, but they can see what this release, this rush, is doing to him. Again and again that same flicker passes over his features, his entire body, like a ripple in time.  
  
(...Schuldrich, stop wasting time...we're here to retrieve our new member...and I will not have you riling up every mental patient we pass...)  
  
Emery's back arches again, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, completely devoid of any focus.  
  
(...Don't be so uptight, Naggles...I'm just jerking your chain...it's fun messing with people's minds...even if they're on your own side...)  
  
One by one, Weiss has moved in tighter to watch over their writhing comrade, but as much as they feel they should hold him down or speak soothing words, they know there is nothing they can do. Besides, he appears to be changing right before their eyes.  
  
(...Punishment's over, Farf...next time, don't be so eager to slaughter an innocent little kid...I love a good bloodbath as much as the next evil villain...but you know what a tight ass Brad can be...)  
  
Emery's eyes are growing more narrow, his features more sharp and mature, and his body seems to stretch and swell more and more with every tense of his broadening muscles.  
  
(...Stupid Weiss...what were you thinking...you can't beat us...nothing can kill us...we...are Schwartz...your worst nightmare...)  
  
The quiver of supernatural shifts is slowing, and Emery looks hardly like himself at all. His hair is the same, his eyes the same shade of blue, but he is no longer a child. The T-shirt and boxers he had been wearing are stretched and torn, but still holding together enough to keep him covered. They were old clothes of Omi's, but it is very doubtful that the youngest member of Weiss is thinking much about that right now.  
  
(...who am I...hehehe...I...am...)  
  
"...Schuldrich..." he gasps, collapsing back completely, his body suddenly still.  
  
The others remain still as well, unable to move, too stunned by what they have just witnessed. In so short a time, Emery, their Emery, has once again become their enemy. At least, on the outside.  
  
The German's eyes had closed after breathing out his renewed name, but now they suddenly open, wide and wild, aware and yet still somewhat dazed. They dart from one member of Weiss to another, afraid, panicking.  
  
His whole body is exhausted, his mind completely worn out, but he struggles to remain awake and alert, desperately grasping at something that is quickly drifting away.  
  
At last, he rests his crazed blue eyes on Ran, still seated beside him, and grabs onto the red-head's arm tightly. "I...I don't want this..." he whispers, his voice sounding so much deeper now. "...help me...don't let me leave..."  
  
"Calm down." Ran commands, wincing at the strength in that grip. "You're not going anywhere. You -"  
  
"Please..." he cuts in, squeezing tighter, and looking beseechingly to all the others. "...don't hate me...I can't stop it..."  
  
His breathing is ragged, his eyes drifting closed. He won't last much longer.  
  
"It's going to be okay." Omi smiles from the far end of the bed. "Just look. You're -"  
  
"No!" he cries, vainly fighting back as Ran and Youji push him down on the bed and pull the covers back up again. "...you...don't understand..."  
  
"Just get some rest, okay?" Ken soothes, smiling from his crouched position near the German's pillow. "You're about ready to burn out on us."  
  
"I...I have to...stay awake..." he mumbles, already giving in to the call of fatigue. "...I have to...protect you..."  
  
Youji raises a curious eyebrow at that, before brotherly patting the frantic young man on the head. "Let us worry about protecting you right now, chibi." Awkward pause. The title really doesn't fit anymore. "I mean...urrr...just...don't worry about anything. We'll take care of you."  
  
"Listen to me! You...have to...listen...I can hear...thoughts..."  
  
"That's normal, remember." Omi consoles.  
  
"...not these..." he whimpers back, almost completely gone now. "...he...he's coming for me..."  
  
And the battle is lost. The now older, German red-head is asleep.  
  
"What do you think he meant by that?" Ken asks softly, following the others out of the room. They decided it was probably a good idea to let the young man sleep.  
  
"Who knows?" Youji shrugs. "He was delirious. Let's just eat some supper and forget it for now. When he wakes up...then we'll know what we have to deal with."  
  
That is...unless "he" gets there first...  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Ooo, aren't I evil? I'm sure you can guess who "he" is, ne? Anyhoo, what do you think? Emery is no longer Emery, or is he, or is he on the verge of being Schuldrich completely and it just hadn't sunk in right away? I'm not telling. Keep reading to find out, and I'll keep the chapters coming. Also, PLEASE REVIEW!!  
  
Also, the German this time around was:  
  
I...want to stay with you...just like this...forever...  
  
Got it? Good. 


	13. 13

*****13*****  
  
The Weiss household is as silent as it has ever been, especially this past week. Emery...Schuldrich...whoever he is now, is restlessly asleep, Ran is in watching over him, Ken is cleaning up the kitchen after supper, and Omi and Youji are settled uncomfortably in the living room. It hasn't been that long since the German's transformation, but enough for the others to choke down a meal and spend far too much time worrying.  
  
"What do you think's gonna happen, Youji-kun?" Omi asks softly, curling his legs up into his chest. He is sitting sideways on the couch to get a clear view of the room their slumbering friend is in.   
  
Sitting on the other end of the couch, Youji slouches with a sigh. "I don't know, Omi. Maybe...it was all just a fluke back there, and when he wakes up he'll be Schuldrich. Maybe he won't be. There's nothing we can do but wait."  
  
"I hope it wasn't a fluke. I liked having Emery around."  
  
"So did I. So did everyone. Even the Ice Princess." Youji grins, if somewhat lopsided. "Schuldrich, on the other hand, I wouldn't want around. But...who he chooses to be...isn't up to us, no matter how much we want him to stay."  
  
What more can be said? A choice. A choice that may or may not have already been made. One thing is certain: there is only one person whose choice it is to make.  
  
CRASH. The small silence that had drifted in once more is shattered. Something that sounded like glass breaking down the hall erupts, and Omi and Youji both jump in their seats.  
  
"What the hell...?" Youji mutters, turning around to stare down the darkened hallway.  
  
From the pair's positions, they can make out almost every single door. There is Omi's room, Youji's, and the bathroom on one side, with Ken's and Ran's on the other. The guest room Emery had used is at the very end of the hall, and is the most difficult to see.   
  
Darkness or no darkness, however, both boys are certain the sound came from there.  
  
"That...that came from Emery's room, ne?" Omi whispers. Apparently the other two members of Weiss have brushed off the noise as nothing, or didn't hear it at all, because neither one has come out of their respective rooms to investigate. "Do you think Aya-kun went in there to get something?"  
  
"Omi, your eyes have been glued to Ran's room for twenty minutes." the taller blonde chides. "What, you think he teleported himself out of there, or snuck past you in that split second you finally allowed yourself to blink? I don't think so."  
  
Youji is nearly cut off as slightly different noises begin coming from the room now. It's almost as if someone broke in through the window, discovered the room was empty, and is now thrashing about in a mad fury because he came up empty handed.  
  
Trembling a little, despite the expertise he has in dealing with tense situations, Omi slips off the couch, moving around it to inch towards the hallway, step by step. Before entering completely, he turns back, not vocally saying to Youji, 'get your ass over here,' but certainly saying it with his round, blue eyes.  
  
"What do you think it is...?" Omi whispers, no longer taking point, but clinging to Youji's back as he and his companion slink towards the far door.   
  
It isn't so much that Omi is afraid, but that he is unarmed. Youji, on the other hand, always has his weapon, as long as he has the time.   
  
"Whatever it is..." Youji whispers back, releasing a handful of wire from his watch. "...it picked the wrong house."  
  
The room is reached, and both boys take in a deep breath for support and courage. Boldly, Youji turns the handle and throws the door open, poised for attack like a cat on the prowl. The second he does this, curiously enough, the strange noises cease, and the room appears to be empty.  
  
"You think we were just hearing things...?" Youji breathes, eyeing the inside of the room critically.  
  
Still clinging to Youji's side, Omi cautiously peers around his friend's back. "We couldn't have both imagined it. Maybe...maybe the shop is haunted!"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. We've lived here for years."  
  
Continuing to speak in hushed voices as they step slowly through the door and into their friend's recently occupied room, they look from side to side, as well as in front of them. Naturally, the last place they think to look...is behind them.  
  
"I don't know what to tell ya, bishounen." Youji shrugs, lowering his guard. "It doesn't look like anyone's here."  
  
A low laugh filters in from behind after that, and both members of Weiss freeze in place, feeling the hairs on the back of their necks instantly stand on end. "Looks..." this unwelcome voice hisses from behind the door they had only moments before passed through. "...can be deceiving."  
  
Youji whips around, shielding Omi behind him. He knows that voice. He knows exactly who he is about to face.  
  
"Farfarello..." Omi breathes, wishing more than anything right now that he had his darts or his crossbow. Preferably both.  
  
"I've come for the stolen lamb." Farfie speaks, pushing the door closed again as he steps out from behind it. His knife gleams dangerously in the dim lighting. "I'll either kill the lamb or leave with the Devil, but either way, going through *you* is not a problem."  
  
Releasing a howl, Farfarello suddenly rushes forward, and Omi darts to the side as the Irishman slams into Youji, sending them both to the ground. In this position, Youji is unable to do much of anything with his wire, and Omi realizes that his friend is in very real danger.  
  
Quicker than most eyes could catch, Farfarello pulls his knife back, preparing to drive it down, but before he can, he is toppled over as a small, but affective, figure attacks him from the side.  
  
Youji releases the breath he had been holding and rolls over to see that Omi is struggling for control of Farfarello's knife. Not surprisingly, Omi isn't winning.  
  
"Get off of him, you freak!" the tall blonde screams, rushing over to pull Farfarello away just in the nick of time.   
  
These newly paired enemies continue to struggle, more fairly matched now, as Omi breathlessly gets to his feet. Darting his eyes about the room, Omi searches wildly for some way to offer his teammate help, or at least for a way to leave the room and run to get some himself.  
  
Luckily, Ran and Ken have finally come to their senses.  
  
"Holy shit, it's Farfarello!" Ken cries, as both he and the furious red-head burst through the door. Both have their weapons, and both are a very sweet sight for sour eyes.  
  
"Tasukete, minna! He's here for Emery!" Omi shouts, sprinting for the door.   
  
Ran and Ken circle the dueling pair, leaving Omi enough room to escape and run for his neglected weapons. Strength in numbers aside, this is not an easy fight. Farfarello feels no pain - not the sting of wires, the scrape of claws, or the cuts of a katana. He doesn't even feel the puncture of darts when Omi returns to join the fray. He just keeps on coming, displaying an intensity none of them knew he possessed. Even Ken is taken aback, and he has paired off against the albino many times in the past.   
  
This is a doomed battle destined to fail.  
  
SLAM. Omi is tossed by the madman like a ragdoll into the wall, and the young blonde crumbles to the ground, unconscious. No sooner does Farfarello rid himself of one member of Weiss, however, when another takes his place.   
  
Ken leaps through the air, intent on driving his claws straight through the Irishman's back, but before he even comes close to descending, Farf whirls around to punch Ken ruthlessly in the stomach. It is the brunette's turn to crumble now, completely winded and writhing in pain on the floor.  
  
This is not turning out in favor for the white ones at all.   
  
Seeing the inevitable, Youji makes a break for it, praying Omi awakes, Ken gets back to his feet, and that Ran can hold the Irishman off long enough. He has a new plan. They need help, and there is only one person who can give it.  
  
"Wake up, Emery!" Youji pleads, leaning over the slumbering red-head anxiously.   
  
He doesn't stir.  
  
"Come on, Em, wake up!" Youji tries again, kneeling beside the bed, and reaching out his arms to shake the young man's shoulders. "He's too much for us. Too focused. We need your help."  
  
Still, the German merely grimaces, groaning in his sleep, but not awaking.  
  
"Damnit, Emery, help us!!"  
  
"His name...is Schuldrich."  
  
Youji tenses, wishing he didn't have to turn around, wishing that the person he knows is behind him wasn't there at all. When Youji does turn, the sight he sees is exactly what he knew it would be.  
  
Farfarello.  
  
"He's come back from the light, I see." the albino comments calmly. Too calmly. "I knew he would come back. I knew he wouldn't abandon me forever."  
  
"Shut up!" Youji cries, guarding the red-head possessively. "You can't have him! He doesn't belong to Schwartz anymore!"  
  
Farfie tilts his head, sauntering slowly into the room. "He doesn't have to belong to us. He is one of us. He *is* Schwartz."  
  
"Like hell!" Youji spits back. "He's Emery. Emery! And I won't let you take him."  
  
"You think you can protect him? All on your own? Your friends are out of commission at the moment, and you are no match for me. How do you plan on stopping something you can't even fight?"  
  
"I've had enough of your bullshit, you crazy fuck! Get the hell out of my house!!" the blonde seethes, standing from his crouched position, and pulling his wires taut.  
  
In reply to this obvious challenge, Farfarello laughs. Such a sound is more haunting than any scream or howl. It is the sound of a soulless echo, bouncing back into Youji's face to strike him down to the ground.  
  
"Stop laughing!"  
  
Farfarello laughs on.  
  
"Stop it! I won't let you win, you hear me?! I won't let you have him!"  
  
Farfarello stops. "And just how are you going to stop me...if you're dead...?"  
  
Faster than Youji can react, Farfarello sprints forward, and drives his knife deep into the taller man's tender side. Youji cries out, his wire slipping from his fingers as he absently clutches at Farfie's shirt, attempting to keep himself steady.  
  
Shivering uncontrollably, Youji blinks past the pain, turning his head to look his attacker in the eye. Farfarello is smiling. Grinning. And with a sickening jerk, he rips the knife free again.  
  
For a moment, Youji remains on his feet, eyes wide, still clinging to Farfarello. Casting a pitiful glance at the still sleeping German, he then clenches his eyes shut from the intense pain, and whispers. "God...no..."  
  
Curiously, Farfie eyes Youji's contorted form as it sinks to the floor. "God...?" he repeats. "God...has nothing to do with this."  
  
Moving closer to the bed, Farfarello now turns his attention on the prize. The red-head appears to be having a very vivid and haunting dream - a nightmare - because his face is twisted, and every so often he releases a soft moan into the air.  
  
"Everything will be as it should be now..." Farfarello speaks softly, leaning over his teammate to breathe in the German's lingering scent. "...because you're coming home with me."  
  
"...no..." Youji gasps from the harsh comfort of the floor, barely conscious.  
  
"Yes." Farfie hisses, slipping his knife into his pocket, and bending lower to touch the side of the red-head's pale face. "You don't belong here...you belong with me...with Schwartz...and all the victims we revel in destroying...together..."  
  
Quite content with himself, Farfie wraps his arms around the dreaming young man, and lifts him from the bed to be draped over his shoulder. This paints a rather interesting picture, actually, like a caveman carrying off his prospective mate. Only this is under highly different circumstances and intentions.  
  
With one last look down at the fallen Kudo Youji, Farfarello turns to the window, his prize safely in possession.  
  
"Emery!" shouts a sudden voice from close by, halting the Irishman's escape.  
  
Fujimiya Ran is poised breathlessly in the doorway, nursing an injured arm and remnants of forced slumber.   
  
"Too late, Abyssinian." Farfarello sneers, rearing back his arm in anticipation for breaking the window. "Whatever you think he is, you've lost it. He was never really with you, anyway. You held a shadow. I hold what lurks within them. I hold what he has always been, and that is something you can never posses."  
  
CRASH. Farfarello - and his prey - are gone.  
  
Dashing across the room, Ran peers madly out into the night, searching for signs of what has just slipped through his fingers.  
  
Nothing. They are long gone, and there is no way to track them. Despite this, Ran resists the urge to leap from the window himself and make chase. What stops him, is the knowledge that he has two unconscious friends in one room, one friend with a near-fatal wound in this one, and his own injuries that desperately need to heal.  
  
They have lost. Weiss has lost to a single man, and with it they have lost their last hope - and belief - in second chances.  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Evil again, ne? I love leaving you on the edge of your seats, no matter how cruel it is. So, what comes next? This isn't the end - not by a long shot. Well, in truth, it may end soon and it may not, but that all depends on you. PLEASE REVIEW!! 


	14. 14

*****14*****  
  
One would almost think the sun would be too ashamed to show her face the day after such a tragedy, but if she followed ideals like that, she would never be able to show her face again. So, naturally, it is a beautiful day - unparalleled and perfect. Bright sun, blue sky, not a single cloud, and just enough of a breeze to threaten your memory, even if it doesn't have the power to whisk it away.  
  
It is a weekday; Weiss had to open the shop, had to move on, and they did. As much as they could, anyway. All four miraculously appeared in time to open the shutters, aprons tied, but not even the most skilled at wearing masks can fake a smile for the customers.  
  
They speak little to each other, only if they have to, and work like machines, doing their jobs but taking no pleasure in it. How foolish. *He* - who for their sakes must remain nameless - had only been in their company for a little over a week. Sure, they have known him for years, but it isn't the same. There is no reason his absence should cause so much heartache.  
  
No reason...other than humanity. Something most of them thought they had long forgotten.  
  
"Youji-kun, are you sure you don't need any -"  
  
"Itai!!"   
  
A large pot slips from the tall blonde's hands, crashing to the floor. Nursing his burning side, Youji falls to one knee, grimacing through a wave of pain.  
  
By some miracle, the wound Farfarello left him had not punctured anything major, though it had grazed his stomach enough to cause him intense pain, and an injury that will take weeks to fully heal, if not more. He is lucky to be alive, but for some reason, he doesn't see it that way.  
  
"Stop fussing over me!" Youji yells, jerking away from the hand Omi has placed on his shoulder. "I'm fine."  
  
"You're not *fine*, Youji-kun. You could have died last night. Why are you pushing yourself so much today? You know you shouldn't be lifting anything heavier than a spray bottle..." Omi trails off and looks despairingly at the floor. "I...I'm just worried about you."  
  
Slowly getting to his feet, and turning to face the boy who is wearing an expression no one could rightfully ignore, Youji's anger crumbles. "Gomen, bishounen. I'm being an ass today. I know I'm suppose to take it easy, but all I want is to keep myself busy enough to stop thinking about..."  
  
"...*him*." Omi finishes in a whisper, smiling up at his friend weakly. "I know. We're all on edge. But...please don't try to lift anything else. I don't want you to open up your wound again."  
  
Grinning down at this kind and caring support, Youji can't resist the urge to tousle Omi's bouncy, blonde hair. "Arigato." he breaths, before drifting off to attend something that won't aggravate his aching side, or his teammate.  
  
Two down, with spirits brought at least a little bit up, but there are still two to go.  
  
"K'so!" Ken cries through clenched teeth, having cut his finger on a thorn while pruning a soon to be made bouquet of roses. He brings the cut to his mouth, sucking on the wound, but the instinctive action offers little comfort.  
  
"Stop being such a klutz" Ran growls, passing by with a glare. "And watch your mouth. Cursing is bad for business, and this *is* a business, in case you've forgotten."  
  
Ken returns that glare like an old pro. "Shut up, Aya. Someone piss in your tea this morning, or are you just be cheery for my sake?"  
  
The deathglare match that ensues nearly withers the roses that are scattered on the table between them. Noticing this friction, Omi quickly disposes of the customer he had been helping, and rushes over to stop whatever is about to happen before it can.  
  
"Problem, minna?" he asks, with a sunny disposition that is anything but real.  
  
"Nothing a good punch in the face won't solve." Ken grumbles.  
  
Naturally, Ran is more than willing to take such a comment to heart. "Is that an invitation? No thanks. Hitting you in the head wouldn't be worth it. I'd rather hit you somewhere that *isn't* hollow."  
  
Ken's eyes flash angrily, and it is quite clear that the table separating them isn't going to be enough to keep them from tearing each other apart for much longer.  
  
"Please, minna! Not in the shop!" Omi protests, rushing in between them. "You're not really mad at each other, you're just...blowing off steam after what happened last night."  
  
Immediately, Ken opens his mouth to protest, still ready for a fight, but the words don't come. The longer he glares into Ran's fierce, violet eyes, the more his soften.  
  
Strangely enough, Ran begins to back down as well, both leaving their misplaced anger behind sooner than they would have in the past. Why is it easier to cool down now than it was...say...last week? I think you can guess why.  
  
"Gomen, Aya. I don't wanna fight."  
  
"I know. Either do I. It seems to be our constant fallback plan, ne? Something goes wrong, something we can't fix, so we beat each other up. *That's* intelligent." Ran adds with a sneer. "I feel like a child letting this affect me so much."  
  
"Maybe...we need a break." Omi offers. After all, none of them got much sleep last night, if any at all.  
  
"I hear that!" Youji agrees, moving haltingly towards them, still favoring his left side, but wearing a very grateful - hopeful - smile. "How about closing up early? It was stupid to open anyway. We did it to take our minds off that mess last night, and only ended up driving each other crazy all day. I vote for an early supper and relaxing in the living room. While going over a couple game plans."  
  
"Game plans?" Ken repeats, raising a brunette eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Dang straight. I hate this moping around. I say we rack our brains till we come up with a plan to get him back. I don't care how long it takes."  
  
"But Yotan..." Omi begins softly. "...we don't even know where Schwartz is. It all seems so hopeless."  
  
"Which is exactly why we need to try." Ran replies.   
  
The others eye him at first as if he must be some impostor. Then they remember how changed he has been, more and more from Em...*him*...staying with them.  
  
"It may be impossible." Ran continues. "We don't know where to begin, and even if we found them, it may be too late. But I swore to have faith in him, and Fujimiya Ran does not go back on his word."  
  
Smile. A smile from every last one of them. This is most likely nothing more than wishful thinking, but sometimes that is enough to inspire hope. And hope is all anyone needs.  
  
It is settled. There are no customers, and all four members of Weiss are ready to call it quits for the day in order to focus their attention on something impossible.  
  
Despite numerous protests, Youji moves swiftly to pull down the grating at the front, a job he prides himself on always being able to handle.  
  
Soon enough, the others have almost everything else closed down around him, leaving Youji's task the only one left to be performed. Just as he is pulling down the shutters, however, a large, pale hand catches it a foot from meeting the ground, revealing a pair of feet on the other side. With the grating almost completely set in place, those feet are the only thing Youji can see of this...stranger, but they are not a pair he recognizes.   
  
Or...perhaps they are merely a pair he has forgotten...  
  
This hand is strong - stronger than Youji - and it steals control away from the injured playboy, jerking the grating back up all too easily. Suddenly, Weiss is brought face to face with a very unexpected guest.  
  
"What? Not happy to see me?" asks a rather nasal voice.   
  
The man before them stands tall, with long, orange hair, narrow, blue eyes, and a familiar - devastatingly familiar - smirk.  
  
Weiss stand stunned. All flank the doorway, all are close enough to reach out and touch this...guest, but none have the strength to say a word.  
  
Finally, when the silence in the room is about ready to burst, Omi makes a desperate lunge forward, clinging to the man's chest as he breaks into light sobs, and cries. "Emery!"  
  
The tall red-head grimaces, pushing the young boy away roughly, and smoothes out the fabric of his tailored coat. "Uck! Don't cramp my style, kid. I just had this suit cleaned."  
  
Schuldrich. That, and only that, is what hits all of them like a rainstorm of bricks. This is Schuldrich. The strange light in his eyes, the curl of his lips, his presence, and even his clothes, are purely Schuldrich.   
  
He is wearing an outfit that truly symbolizes him as he was. A bright blue, button-down shirt that matches his eyes, grey pants, and an ebony-black blazer, much like his old green one from years before. No bandanna. No sunglasses. Just the outfit, and that old demeanor. That's all it takes.  
  
All it takes for hope to come crashing down around them.  
  
"Demo..." Omi tries, blinking away tears as he regains his balance. "I thought...you...you were...I...I don't understand this, Emmy-chan?"  
  
Again...a grimace. "Gimme a break, you little twerp." Schu sneers. "Emmy-chan? You actually thought I was gonna be all hugs and sweet sentiments when I came back? Typical. I'd think you'd understand how the world works by now."  
  
"That's enough." Ran breaks in, clearly having a hard time keeping himself under control, although he is hiding it far better than the others.  
  
Youji has gone as pale as a ghost, Omi is struggling to contain his tears, and Ken looks about ready to maul Schuldrich into the ground. Ran is on the verge of all of these emotions and reactions, but he hides it, only allowing it to seep out through the one place it can.  
  
His eyes.  
  
Schuldrich looks straight into those eyes, seeing right through him, and grins. "My, my, Fujimiya, you aren't gonna cry, too, are you? I hope you don't regret refusing me that night. After all..." the grin grows. "...I did warn you."  
  
The fire behind those violet eyes is beyond being ablaze now, but the force of it is nothing to Schuldrich. He takes it in and lets it wash away as if it wasn't even there.  
  
A few questioning looks pass between the others, for obvious reason - (I hope you don't regret refusing me that night) - but they decide not to pursue the subject. There really isn't much point anymore anyway.  
  
"Such glum faces." Schu notes, stepping forward, and laughing lightly at how they back away as he moves through them. "You really thought you were gonna win, didn't you? What a shame. Guess you boys aren't as intelligent as I gave you credit for."  
  
"Cut the shit, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch." Youji growls, sounding eerily dark and deadly, even in his injured state. "What the hell is going on? When you woke up you were still Emery. One night back with psycho and company and you're ready to turn on us. I thought you were -"  
  
"What? Your *friend*." Schu mocks, stepping right up to the blonde until they are nearly nose to nose. "I don't make friends with self-righteous killers who don't even recognize what they are." With that same smug smile, he raises a hand to Youji's side and presses two fingers hard against the blonde's wound. "Enjoying Farf's little gift?"  
  
Sucking in air through clenched teeth, Youji can't help backing away at that searing touch, hating how he is showing weakness, and hating even more how it is exactly the reaction Schu was hoping for.  
  
Schuldrich moves his hand away and tosses Youji a cruel wink. "Guess not."  
  
"What do you want, Schuldrich?" Ken breaks in, his biting tone sounding as if a single push could send him over the edge.  
  
"What do you think I want?" Schu shoots back, turning out to gaze scornfully at all of them - Youji still wincing in pain, Omi still fighting back sobs, Ken clenching and unclenching his fists, and Ran...appearing cold as always, with only the smallest hint that he is just as affected by this as the others. "I came for my stuff. The outfit I first showed up in, my wallet, and the spell. For a souvenir. It did work, after all. I can hear your thoughts, but only if I want to."  
  
"And what is it that you're hearing?" Ran challenges.  
  
Sending back an even more challenging grin, Schu gives a slight toss of his wild, red hair. "Nothing interesting enough to listen to."  
  
Tense quiet stretches a despairing hand over the next few minutes, with no one moving, and barely anyone daring to think. At long last, Schu moves further into the shop, and gestures to the door that leads up into the apartment above.  
  
"Isn't anyone going to invite me in?" he asks, mocking injured pride. "What terrible hosts."  
  
Still, Weiss can't think of anything to say or do. They have been proven wrong, and it hurts more than they ever imagined it would.  
  
"Fine. I'll just let myself up."  
  
Even after Schuldrich has slipped up the steps, the four stunned florists remain in place, staring after him. Eventually, the full realization of what is happening - their enemy in their home with free reign over their rooms and their lives - dawns on them, and all go sprinting up the steps.  
  
Just as they head for the hallway upstairs, however, Schu is already coming out of it, with a large bag, full of his things, swung over his shoulder.  
  
"Hey...that's one of our laundry bags!" Omi protests, feigning anger, but still displaying his lingering heartache in how he cannot bring himself to look Schuldrich in the eyes.  
  
"Correction: *my* laundry bag." Schu explains pointedly. "You did say it was an extra one you had lying around, and if memory serves me, which it finally does again, you said I could use it."  
  
"We said *Emery* could use it." Ken bites back.  
  
Schuldrich isn't even the least bit phased by the venom in those words. "Get over it, Hidaka. Emery...was nothing but a figment of your imaginations. This is the real me, so get used to it, and get out of my way."  
  
Pushing past them, Schu walks into the living room, making a point to step as close as possible to each one of them when he passes.   
  
"See ya around."  
  
"Wait - !" Youji yells after him, before even realizing he has opened his mouth.  
  
Schu turns back, peering at the tall blonde expectantly.  
  
"You...you're just gonna leave." Youji stutters, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes.  
  
"What did you expect? Huh? What do you want from me? A goodbye kiss?"  
  
Youji stumbles away as Schu takes a step towards him, and the German replies to this by tossing his head back with a scornful laugh. Whether he seriously would have acted on his apparent intentions is anyone's best guess.  
  
"Thought so. Now, unless anyone has anything productive to say, I'm outta here." Turning on his heels, he heads once again for the stairs. Before getting too far, however, he pauses in his hasty retreat. "Don't think just because I didn't start up a fight today I won't be ready for you next time we meet. You could have killed me when I was that snot-nosed, little brat, without powers or any idea who you were, but you didn't. I'm not saying I'm grateful. I'm just returning the favor. Wouldn't want the obligation of owing you anything. We're even, so let's just leave it at that."  
  
Weiss almost can't believe their ears as Schu descends the steps, but there was a definite slip of sorrow in his voice for a moment, a big enough slip for them to notice.   
  
He is human after all.  
  
"Matte, Schuldrich!" calls a nearly emotionless voice to stop the red-head's last few steps. He is now standing just in front of the shop's door, with the members of Weiss left behind upstairs.  
  
Except for the member that has followed him down, that is.  
  
"Did you really think I'd let you go so easily." Ran speaks softly to the German's back, since Schuldrich has yet to turn around. "I promised to believe in you. And you promised...that you would stay."  
  
"Who's the fool then?" Schu sneers, whipping around and allowing his bag to drop to the floor. "Me for giving that promise, or you for believing it?"  
  
There is very little humor left in Schuldrich's tone, and Ran catches it easily, tilting his head to the side as he sizes the young man up. "You sound as if you're about to lose your temper. I hope I haven't struck a nerve."  
  
Caught. Schu realizes that he has been caught without his mask, and quickly compensates with an even larger smirk than usual. "I see what's going on here." he purrs, slinking across the floor towards Ran. "You don't want me to go...because we have unfinished business."  
  
Ran tenses, eyeing Schuldrich very closely as the German circles him and comes up from behind to entwine long arms around his waist.  
  
The outmatched red-head does not step away, but the feel of those arms, those eager hands, is not what he is after.  
  
"Don't...touch me." Ran warns, remaining rigid in his posture, even as Schu teasingly plays over his chest, while stepping in close enough for his breath to warm the back of Ran's neck. "I don't want you."  
  
Schu grins wider, pressing in closer, forming his body completely against Ran' back. Unwittingly, Ran releases a shudder, and Schu absolutely devours it, before leaning in to whisper. "...liar..." And then begins nibbling at a very tempting, white earlobe.  
  
Holding his breath, Ran simply refusing to react. He refuses to give Schuldrich the pleasure of getting the better of him.  
  
"So stiff...but I think I can soften you...Ran..." Schu breathes, stressing that name as if knowing how wrong it is for him to use it.  
  
"Let..." Gasp. "...let go of me."  
  
Schuldrich is no fool, and he is no inexperienced, 16 year old boy, either. Expertly, Ran's shirt is already unbuttoned, and Schu's hands are smoothing over the muscles, applying just enough pressure in all the right places.  
  
Ran's breathing is picking up pace, but he still refuses to act in return.  
  
(If you really wanted to get away, you would have pushed me off at square one.) whispers that haunting, nasal voice into Ran's mind.  
  
"You...have no...affect on me..." the worked up red-head breathes back, desperate to still the growling that is building low in his stomach. Too low.  
  
"Of course I don't." Schu laughs lightly, nipping at Ran's perfect, white neck. "I could take you right here if I wanted. Come on...live on the edge. You can't tell me you've never fantasized about doing it in the shop."  
  
A quick peak inside Ran's mind proves him wrong, but that does nothing to detour him.  
  
"Well, then, we'll just have to create a new fantasy."  
  
"I told you already." Ran expresses sternly, regaining a little of his lost control, despite the hands on his skin, and the warm mouth pressed into his neck. "I don't want you."  
  
"What *do* you want?" Schu asks heavily, trailing his hands lower and lower down Ran's chest until they reach low enough to rest gently over the curve of the front of Ran's pants. "You want the kid, is that it? I didn't peg you for the jailbait type."  
  
"What I want...is for you to remove your hands and back away."  
  
"No." Schu answers simple, squeezing the tiniest bit through the fabric of the pants beneath his grasp. "I don't believe you. I'm finding far too many reasons to think you're lying."  
  
"I don't want you." Ran says again, angrier, fiercer. "I want to believe in something. I want back what Emery gave me, and what *you* are now trying to take away."  
  
"Hmph." Schu grunts, his intentions deflated. He removes his hands and steps back, sizing Ran up the way Ran had scrutinized him. "You want hope." he says in disgust, practically spitting out the words. "Keep dreaming. People like us don't get hope. We don't get sweet romances and happy endings. We don't get...second chances. Not ones that last."  
  
In the blink of an eye, Schuldrich is back by the doorway, his bag once again over his shoulder, and he is ready to leave everything behind.  
  
"I would have blown your mind, ya know?" he smirks, tossing Ran a wink on his way out the door.  
  
"I'll take your word for it." Ran answers, without humor or any discernible emotion. Then, just as Schu steps out into the setting sunlight. "Would you do something for me...?"  
  
"You asking for a favor, or do you just want me to sneak into your room tonight."  
  
"I'm being serious."  
  
"So am I."  
  
Ran narrows his eyes dangerously, and Schuldrich's smirk sinks.  
  
"Fine. What do you want?"  
  
"Nothing much. Just remember something for me..." Ran trails off, for the briefest moment allowing his true emotions to show on his face. "Emery...is always welcome here."  
  
Schu releases a bitter laugh, before turning again, and heading down the street.  
  
(I'll be sure and tell him for ya...Ran...)  
  
If he could think of a good enough reason, Ran almost would have smiled at the thought Schuldrich pressed into his mind before leaving, but that thought did not have what Ran wanted.   
  
Hope. All he wanted was to believe it was possible. But now he knows...it isn't...  
  
"Hey, anyone seen my soccer gloves!? I can't find them anywhere!" echoes Ken's voice from the floor above.  
  
Ran tilts his head up to listen.  
  
"My keychain! It's gone! Which one of you took it!" bellows Youji's voice next.  
  
"Minna! Don't laugh, but...my stuffed cat is gone!" finishes Omi. "Have you seen it?!"  
  
Ran turns his attention away from the ceiling and the commotion upstairs, bringing a quivering hand up to his neck.  
  
Nothing. The chain, the cross, the necklace that should be there...is not. It's gone. Like the gloves, the keychain, and the cat, it has mysteriously gone missing.  
  
(...you had all the time in the world, didn't you...?) Ran muses, remembering how Weiss had taken a few missed moments before joining Schu upstairs. (And you were more than close enough to get what you wanted from me...weren't you...?)  
  
This time Ran allows that pestering smile to claim his features, at least for a moment. He has what he was looking for now. Perhaps. Even the mere idea is enough, after all. And second chances can only exist in the wake of the very thing he has been left with.  
  
Hope.  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Over? Not yet. For sure, I'm doing one more chapter, showing Schu as he returns "home" to Schwartz. I almost want to do more after that, but I'll have to wait and see how you react. Thanks for all the great reviews. And...REVIEW AGAIN!! 


	15. 15

*****15*****  
  
Routine. Habit. That old familiar feeling of being apart of something that is apart of nothing. That is what it feels like when a member of Schwartz comes back from the dead.  
  
Schuldrich wasn't dead, of course, only sleeping, buried inside a shell that used to be who he was through and through. Not dead, but brought back to a time when life was simple and he didn't have as many ghosts banging on his door. But now...Schuldrich is back.  
  
So it would seem.  
  
With a full bag of claimed possessions over his shoulder, Schu slips in through the back door of Schwartz's hideout. The back door is also the basement door, leading to a damp, dark, and very narrow hallway. At the end of the hallway is a fork - turn right: Farfarello's cell; turn left: the main part of the house. Neither choice carries much appeal at the moment.  
  
Schuldrich walks slowly, practically dragging his feet, unsure exactly how he should interact with his teammates if they happen to cross his path. They had all been there when he awoke the night before, all with their own accusations and expectations, but in the end it was all brushed aside to make it easier for life to return to the way it was.   
  
Nagi is quiet and aloof, Brad is harsh-tempered and severe, and Farfarello is...  
  
Where is Farfarello...?  
  
Coming to the fork in the road, Schu tilts his head down the corridor to Farf's room. It is completely black, making it impossible for him to even see an inch in front of his face. A small step forward brings him into the corridor itself, but the second his other foot follows, he is suddenly spun. Before he can even catch a breath, he is slammed up against the nearest wall, held in place by a chilling grip on his neck.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Schu barks, squinting through the veil of darkness to make out Farfarello's stonecold face. "Let go, Farf. It's just me."  
  
The eerily placid Irishman gives no answer, continuing to hold Schu in place, with scarred fingers wrapped around the red-head's throat, though not tight enough to cause *much* discomfort.  
  
"Are you blind?" Schuldrich sneers, his bag long forgotten on the cold floor as he paws with both hands to loosen Farfarello's grip. "Last I checked you still had one good eye, so why don't you use it and get the fuck off me?!"  
  
Farfie leans in close, boring that one good eye straight through Schuldrich as it looks him over. Curiously, he breathes Schuldrich in once getting close enough, and doesn't seem to like what he has found. "You have their scent all over you." the albino comments at last, not bothering to move away when he finally releases Schu from his grasp. "Why?"  
  
"I picked up my stuff, okay?" Schu grunts back, smoothing out the collar of his shirt, and reaching down to retrieve his lost bag. "What do you care? I'm back, aren't I? Not that it makes much difference to you. You would've been just as happy killing the kid as you are having me back."  
  
"That's not...entirely true." Farfarello breathes, following Schuldrich back into the light of the main hallway. "How did you know what I was planning to do?"  
  
Schuldrich doesn't answer aloud, but offers a dull smirk as he taps the side of his head.  
  
"Aa." Farfie replies. "You always know, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah. Even if I don't want to."  
  
"Are you angry?"  
  
"Would you really have killed me if I was still the kid?"  
  
"Yes." comes the straight forward answer, with no holding back and no hesitation.  
  
Schuldrich isn't the least bit surprised. "Would you have missed me?"  
  
"...yes." A slight hesitation, but not because the answer is a lie. Because the answer is the truth.  
  
"No, I'm not angry. We are who we are, right, Farf?"  
  
Accepting the red-head's genuine smile, Farfarello almost smiles back, but the expression gets lost somewhere along the way, as it often does, and he merely stares at his...friend...happy to have him home again.  
  
"I'll come back down and keep you company later, okay?" Schu winks, turning down the other corridor to head upstairs. "Just don't gnaw through anything expensive till I get back."  
  
The smile Schuldrich had flashed falls away the moment he turns from Farfarello. It *had* been genuine, as rare as it is for him to smile in any way other than a smirk, but it didn't know how to linger any longer without becoming fake.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
Schuldrich reluctantly freezes, half-way to his room when this darkly demanding voice calls to him, and under the foolish impression that he was about to make it the entire way without getting stopped.  
  
"You were ordered to let me know the next time you planned on leaving the grounds. Or did you forget?"  
  
Excruciatingly slow, Schuldrich turns around, coming face to face with a very annoyed Brad Crawford. "I didn't forget. I just didn't feel like telling you."  
  
"Schuldrich -"  
  
"Can it, Brad." Schu boldly interrupts. "I don't won't to hear another lecture. I got enough of that last night."  
  
If recent events weren't already enough, such insubordination is the final straw. "That is quite enough. From now on, I will no longer be accepting this kind of behavior. You *will* do as you are told. Understood?"  
  
"Whatever." Schu huffs, and pointedly whips back around to head for his room.  
  
A fierce hand on his shoulder spins him back, however, and holds him ruthlessly in place. "You think this is a game? You think I'm going to let you off easy for your betrayal?"  
  
"Betrayal -?"  
  
"Don't talk. Just listen." Brad cuts in, looming dangerously over his rapidly weakening teammate. "You tampered with my powers to cover your own worthless ass from how you knew I would react if I found out about your little experiment. Well, I found out anyway. So now you have a little more control. Good for you. I may not know where you were this past week while you recovered from that mess of a spell you threw together, but mark my words, nothing like this is ever going to happen again. Next time you think about going off on your own, with your own agenda, think again. Never forget what you are. You are Schwartz. That, and only that, is where your allegiance lies. Defy me again...and I won't be so nice about it."  
  
Brad tosses Schu back, nearly toppling the younger man over, and glares daggers into the amazingly watery blue eyes that glare back at him.  
  
Once Schuldrich regains his balance, the pair remain locked in that shared glare, neither willing to back down. Once again, Schu's bag has landed on the floor, but he doesn't reclaim it just yet. There is more that needs to be said.  
  
"You just can't stand losing control, can you?" he smirks bitterly, taking a brave step forward. "For one moment in your life you didn't know what was going to happen next, and that scared the shit out of you."  
  
"That's enough, Schul -"  
  
"No. It's *my* turn now." Another step forward, and the two are once again toe to toe. "Yeah, I went behind your back, and no, I'm not telling you where I was, but even if all I am is Schwartz, I still owe a few other things my allegiance. Like myself. If I want to leave without asking permission, I will. If I want to stay out all night and fuck some nobody's brains out, I will. If I want to stand up to you one minute and follow your orders the next, I will. That's the way we've always played the game, Bradley. Yeah, I do think this is a game. And unless you plan on making it Game Over for me, these are the terms. Understood?" he adds mockingly, by this time speaking right into Brad's face, and somehow not showing an ounce of fear.  
  
Brad doesn't answer, although he does manage to maintain his composure, still staring unwaveringly back into those rebellious, blue eyes.  
  
"Good boy, Bradley." Schu grins, turning away and scooping his bag up off the floor. "And don't worry, nothing like what happened is ever going to happen again. Wouldn't want that stick up your ass to get jammed any further, would we?"  
  
Continuing down the hall, Schuldrich stops in front of his door, knowing full well that Brad has yet to move a muscle.  
  
"By the way..." he calls down the hallway. "...I'd be more careful. You have this bad habit of letting your mental defenses drop when you get really pissed off."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brad snaps, still holding his ground, even if it no longer belongs to him.  
  
"Nothing. I just wanted to let you know..." Schuldrich pauses the tiniest bit, grandly opening his door. "...I missed you, too." And in the blink of an eye, he disappears inside.  
  
Some things never change.  
  
*****  
  
And some things do. Even if we don't expect them to. Some things take us by surprise. Sometimes we accept this change, and sometimes we reject it, but sometimes...no matter what we do...we can't stop it from changing us.  
  
Schuldrich is lying back on his bed, free of his coat, his shoes, and his socks, but still in that blue, button-down shirt, and those dark, grey pants. Why bother dressing for bed? He knows he won't be getting much sleep any time soon.  
  
Opposite the bed, there is a simple dresser that lies right in his line of sight. It is simple for its purpose - safekeeping folded clothes - but not so simple for what is now sitting on top of it.  
  
Gazing longingly at the only things he had taken out of his bag that hold any meaning, Schuldrich doesn't feel remorse for stealing such precious mementos. But he doesn't feel much better about himself for taking them, either.  
  
There is a worn pair of fingerless gloves, a keychain in the shape of a white convertible, and a stuffed, white cat that shows countless signs of being a very beloved toy once upon a time.  
  
Where is the last item? The final, stolen artifact? Being twirled between long, thin fingers as Schu's gaze drifts from the objects on his dresser to the one in his hands.  
  
How ironic for such a demon to be fascinated by the cross. It isn't anything special; a simple, silver cross on a simple, silver chain. Nevertheless, it holds something important. Something impossible. It holds...  
  
"...Schuldrich...?"  
  
The German stops his musings, instantly hiding the necklace in a clumsy fist at the sound of that tentative voice. Naoe Nagi has entered his suffocatingly quiet room, and is now shutting the door behind him, intent on sticking around long enough for whatever reason he has come, even if Schuldrich yells at him to get out.  
  
Oddly enough, Schuldrich doesn't.  
  
"What do you want, kid?" he asks softly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
"I...I just wanted to...talk."  
  
"About what?" Schu presses, clenching his fist as if to make the necklace disappear before Nagi can see it.  
  
Hesitantly, the young boy walks deeper into the room, right up to Schuldrich sitting on the bed, and attempts a very awkward smile. "About...being free."  
  
Schuldrich doesn't have to look inside the boy's mind to know what he means, and he doesn't want to deal with it. With an exasperated sigh, he rising from the bed and goes to his dresser, tossing the necklace down amongst the other items. Who cares if Nagi sees it? He doesn't want to be around anyone right now anyway.  
  
"Please..." Nagi whispers, stepping closer to Schuldrich's turned back and obvious avoidance. "...I want to know what it was like. I know who you were with all this week. I saw you."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I saw you, too."  
  
"I didn't tell him, you know? I didn't tell him anything."  
  
"I know that, too. Brad still has no idea where I was."  
  
"Then you...owe me something...don't you?"  
  
Schu whips around, startling Nagi at how fast he has moved. "Owe you? What, trying to blackmail me now?"  
  
"No!" Nagi cries in defense, taking a fearful step back. "I just want to know...something...anything...about what it was like to not remember being...what we are. You don't have to tell me. I won't tell Crawford the truth either way, I swear. I just...I just..."  
  
"Want to know." Schu finishes, sighing deeply again, and running a hand through his wild, red hair. "What am I supposed to say, huh? They're our enemy. It didn't mean anything and all I want is to forget it ever happened."  
  
If this answer had come from anyone else, Nagi probably would have accepted it and gone on his way. But this isn't just anyone, this is Schuldrich. Schuldrich doesn't have a quietness about him, a sorrow, or even a soul. Whoever this is, however...does.  
  
It doesn't fit. The answer, or the returned man. Oh, he tries to act the way he was, and he does a damn good job of it, but Nagi has caught him alone and in what appears to be a vulnerable state. He simply cannot let such an opportunity pass him by.  
  
"You're lying." Nagi states boldly, standing firm. "I know it meant something. Why else would you take those things?" Gesturing with his delicate chin, Nagi indicates the stolen mementos.  
  
Schu allows his own eyes to rest upon those dear trinkets, and madly searches for a way to explain them. "I wanted to...take something important to them...so they'd remember not to mess with us. You know: attack Schwartz, lose something dear to you?"  
  
Nagi raises a skeptical eyebrow, hardly impressed. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but...that's bullshit."  
  
Now it is Schuldrich's turn to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"I saw you, remember? I saw how happy you were with them. I've never seen you happy before. Sure, you wear a smile practically all the time, but it's never a real one, it's just a tool. A trick. But that boy didn't need any tricks, did he? It was the first time I ever saw you as...you. And I liked him alot better than...this." Nagi gestures feebly with one of his tiny hands, half-terrified by how straight forward he is allowing himself to be in front of someone he usually avoids completely. "For those few days...you were free. You had a new life, and you were accepted there. You didn't even have the burden of remembering the person you had been."  
  
"Yeah, well I remember now." Schu interrupts, pushing past Nagi to return to the edge of his bed. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like knowing that he is being so obvious in front of Nagi when he should be easing back in to being Schuldrich. It doesn't make any sense. "I remember...everything. I'm Schwartz, Nagi. We both are. We all are. There's no coming back from that."  
  
Nagi can't accept this answer, not if he is going to continue believing in what he hopes he has found. "For a moment...there was, and you were the one who did it." he whispers, haltingly lowering himself onto the bed next to his teammate. "You could go back to them. I know they'd accept you again."  
  
"Where the hell is this coming from?" Schu whirls around, narrowing his eyes at Nagi's seemingly genuine concern. "Why do you care? It isn't your life, it's mine."  
  
"I guess...I'm hoping that...if one of us can escape...then maybe I can one day, too."  
  
Sigh. Again and again...and again. "There is no escape from this, kid. Not for me. You...you might get away some day, running off with that freak of a girlfriend of yours, but you're still young."  
  
"I'm not much younger than *you*."  
  
"Age doesn't come in years, kid. Age comes from experience. I'm decades beyond you measuring experience."  
  
Nagi hates to give up, but he can sense that he is losing this argument one comeback at a time. Dejectedly, he rises from the bed and moves to the door, appearing as if he has indeed given up and is about to leave Schuldrich in peace.  
  
He is. But not before having the last word.  
  
"It's your choice, you know? No one else's." he breathes, searing through Schuldrich with those large, blue-grey eyes. "I didn't miss you when you were gone." he adds, suppressing the tiniest smirk. "It was so much quieter around here without you. But...when I saw you at the flower shop...I thought that maybe...if you were like that boy...I would miss you alot. Weiss must be going crazy without you if they feel the way I would. But you know what's really strange?" he asks lightly, catching Schu's gaze, that has been stubbornly lowered until now. "I get the feeling...that the boy never really left."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Well...the old Schuldrich would have kicked me out by now. The old Schuldrich would have sneered and said something cruel to crush my spirit. But you haven't. I guess...you have to make a choice."  
  
Nagi turns, opening the door, and steps almost completely through before calling back.  
  
"Welcome home."  
  
Those final words are meant to sting, and they do. This isn't home. This is work. This is life. But this has never been a home. Even with all of them in their respective roles - Brad: Father, Schu: Mother, Farf: Crazy Uncle, and Nagi: the depressed, teenage son. They are the perfect, dysfunctional family.  
  
So what is he supposed to do? A few days ago everything was lighter, happier, but now everything looks darker and more upsetting, like he has opened Pandora's Box of Angst. Nothing makes sense. It had been easy pretending around Weiss, even when Ran came after him, but pretending *here*, with Schwartz, was only going to get harder.  
  
Schuldrich rises from the bed, heading for his dresser again, and passes his gaze over the silly mementos. Why had he taken them? Not because of the stupid answer he gave Nagi, that's for sure. But because...he had to.  
  
Picking up the now empty bag from the floor, Schu tosses the gloves, the keychain, and the kitty back inside. The necklace, however, he continues to stare at for a moment, eyeing its perfection. At long last, he still does not add it to the others, but clasps it back around his own neck, being sure to hide it beneath his shirt should Farfarello happen to catch him on his way out.  
  
Out...?  
  
Slipping back on his black jacket, his socks, and his shoes, Schu is soon ready again. He knows he doesn't have time to grab anything else - Brad is no longer blocked from having premonitions about him - and the time he takes lingering over nostalgia, is already too much.  
  
He doesn't know how far he is going to get as he heads for the door, the bag once again swung over his shoulder, but he is certainly going to try. After all, there is hope in trying. And that is all he has been asked to offer.  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Hmm. That is supposed to be the end. Something like that, anyway. But...I don't know if I like it. I want to write more. But...do you want me to? I have other fics in my head that I could work on. Maybe I could add one more chapter, maybe I could let the fic just keep going, but I'd hate if it just died off. Well, I'll wait and see what you think, but if I don't get feedback, I might just decide to delete this chapter and leave it after the last one as the end. I like that better than ending it here, unless I choose to go on. What should I do? REVIEW! 


	16. 16

*****16*****  
  
Back with Weiss. Not Emery. Not Schuldrich. Not yet. Just us observers, watching these four assassins-by-night, florists-by-day, as they putz around their shared apartment, hoping to come up with something to take their minds off of...everything else.  
  
Not only have all of them lost something dear to them, but they have lost a dear friend as well. It doesn't make the day or the night move any faster, it just drags life along, and all of them feel as if they have been drug all over town.  
  
Everyone, except...maybe...one particular red-head.  
  
"I'm not saying anything." Ran sighs, slumping down on the end of the couch. "I just think it's a possibility. Why else would he steal the very things he knew meant the most to us?"  
  
"To get under are skin, what do ya think?" Youji sneers, easing himself down into a nearby chair, considering his side is still a bit tender.  
  
As for the others, Omi is curled up on the opposite end of the couch from Ran, and Ken is sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table.   
  
It isn't very late, a little after 8 o'clock, but without any new missions to worry about recently, they don't know what to do with themselves, other than discuss the one thing none of them really want to talk about.  
  
"From the sound of things, it seems that all the stuff he took were possessions we all specifically told him about." Omi comments logically, lying his head back on the arm of the couch. "None of them were anything we really *need*, but he knew we'd miss them anyway. Maybe Youji's right. Maybe he just did it for one final slap in the face."  
  
"Sure sounds like something he'd do." Ken agrees, leaning back on his elbows.  
  
"I'll admit..." Youji smiles ruefully, in response to his teammates' suggestions. "...I like Ran's theory better. I like the thought that he took them because he wanted something to remember us by. Heh. That sounds like some hopeless-romantic drivel out loud, doesn't it?"  
  
A little. But hey, we are all entitled to our fantasies. Especially when they might just come true.  
  
Weiss continues talking, actually enjoying themselves after awhile. The topic soon leaves their lost tenant and focuses on other things. On everything.   
  
It isn't often that they have the opportunity to sit down and enjoy a nonlethal evening together. It isn't often that they take such an opportunity. But tonight...they have.   
  
Youji wouldn't be able to go out in his condition, anyway, especially for the usual recreation he would be going out for. Ken certainly doesn't have anywhere he needs to be, since soccer practice is during the day. Omi doesn't have any backup paperwork to worry about, or any computer work to mess with. And Ran...well...for once, he doesn't feel like going off on his own.  
  
Rare moments like these are what remind them that they are friends, even if they often forget.  
  
Being so wrapped up in each other, actually, they don't even pick up on the sound of the door opening and closing below them, nor do they hear the footsteps that soon begin to ascend the stairs.  
  
"Hey, at least I'm not one of the ones who fell right on his ass during that shift." Youji teases, the conversation having turned to humorous events that have occurred in the shop.  
  
"It wasn't my fault!" Omi protests, since he *was* one of the ones who fell to the floor the fateful day they are discussing. "Ken-kun sprayed too much water near the daffodils and the floor was all wet."  
  
"You're blaming me?" Ken asks, wide-eyed. "I slipped that day, too, ya know? It's all because of Youji. We got distracted when he tried to set up that quadruple date for all of us."  
  
Youji tilts his head, dreamily remembering. "You should have agreed, boys. The four girls and I had alot of fun that night."  
  
Omi and Ken stare blankly a few minutes, before both burst out laughing at such an intriguing statement, and although Ran shakes his head in disapproval, the smallest smile begins to appear on his lips, as well.  
  
"Geez, when was the last time we did something like this?" Youji asks softly, admiring his laughing - and somewhat smiling - friends. "Even without him here, it's obvious Emery's had a lasting affect on us. I wonder...I wonder what he'd say..."  
  
"So, I go home, right? No big deal. Lived their for years. Should have been a piece 'a cake."  
  
Four heads whip around, instantly tensing at the sound of that nasal voice, and the sight of a red-haired young man leaning over the railing by the stairs.  
  
"Well, it wasn't a piece 'a cake. Farf is as psycho as ever, but I don't find it a comfort anymore. Brad's the same old jackass, who oddly enough, was a little worried about me this past week, but I feel even more inclined *not* to follow his orders than I did before. As for Nagi..." he continues, by this time having swung his legs over the banister, now sitting on the railing, while ignoring the dumbfounded looks his companions are giving him. "...he gave me a nice, long speech about how it's my life and I'm the one who has to chose who I am going to be. And you know what? It *is* my life. It's my choice. And I don't think it should be them."  
  
Weiss is still speechless and still, watching as Schuldrich produces that familiar laundry bag and proceeds to dump it out on the floor. The gloves, the keychain, and the stuffed cat, all fall out in a heap. The necklace is also in plain sight, dangling out in the open from around the German's neck.  
  
"Sorry if you missed this stuff. Couldn't help myself." Schu smirks, admiring the perplexed looks he is still receiving. "Look, I'm not Emery, okay? I'm just not. But...I'm not really Schuldrich, either. I remember doing all the things I've done, but I remember not remembering, too. I can't be just one of those people anymore. I'm both. And you're gonna have to deal with both if you decide to...let me come back."  
  
Finally, the silence that has overtaken Weiss consumes the entire room. Schuldrich is waiting for an answer, but the others are too stunned to give him one.  
  
(This is insane.)  
  
(How can we trust him?)  
  
(He's probably just playing with us again.)  
  
(I wonder if...it could really be possible...)  
  
Oh, yes, the air is silent, but what lies buried deep beneath everything else, rings loud and clear to Schuldrich. Can he blame them for having doubts? Hell, even he has doubts. The real strange thing, though, is that one string of hope. The one mind that jumps first to believing in him instead of believing harsh things about him.  
  
I'm sure you can guess who belongs to that string.  
  
"Why the sudden change of heart?" Ran questions suddenly, hiding something behind his usually masked, violet eyes. "I believe I remember someone telling me that there is no hope or second chances for people like us. Was that you, or were you someone else when you said that?"  
  
Schuldrich casts his gaze away, down at the floor, still swinging his legs from his perch on the railing. "You want the truth? The truth is...half of me is ready to sprint back down those stairs and go home. But the other half...hehe...the other half thinks *this* is home. I made a choice once, and I didn't like it, so I'm trying again. Whether I'm welcome back...well...that's up to you."  
  
Weiss sit stunned, including Ran. After all, even he didn't know how Schuldrich was going to answer him. Every last one of them wants to answer back, but none have the strength to say a word. None know what they *should* say, because as much as they have hoped for this very moment, nothing is easy when something like this lands at your feet.  
  
Finally, when the silence in the room is about ready to burst, a certain blue-eyed bishounen leaves the safety of his seat on the couch, and with a very familiar lunge forward, he clings to Schuldrich's chest, nearly toppling the red-head over the edge of the railing.   
  
"Emmy-chan!" Omi cries happily, no need for tears this time around.  
  
"Deja vu, kid." Schu grins, tentatively slipping his arms around Omi's shoulders to hug him back.  
  
The young blonde shakes his head, pulling Schuldrich off the banister into a true hug, tight and close. "Iie, Emery. You didn't push me away this time."  
  
"Yeah, well...don't hang on so tight. I wasn't kidding when I said I'd just had this suit cleaned."  
  
Omi laughs, reluctantly pulling away, and miraculously enough, Ken and Youji join in. Ran would have, too, but getting a laugh out of him comes about once a year, at best.   
  
It isn't easy to slip back into a familiar pattern when the very makeup of that pattern has changed, but they are certainly willing to try.  
  
The stolen items are tossed back to their rightful owners as Schuldrich takes a seat on the arm of the couch. All except for the necklace. It isn't on purpose, and Ran knows that, which is why he doesn't mention the fact that Schuldrich has grown comfortable enough with it to forget it is still around his neck.  
  
"You have to understand." the nearly out of place German begins, nervously wringing his hands. "If you let me stay, you're lives will be in danger. More so than usual." He swallows, attempting to pass his anxiety off with that common smirk, but failing miserably. "Brad knows. I'm sure he knows by now. And...they'll come for me. Farf's gonna want to kill me, I can guarantee you that, and it'll be a pain in the ass to stop him. If Brad gets to me first, whatever he has planned will be even worse."  
  
"Worse than psycho-boy cutting you apart?" Ken questions with a raised eyebrow, not holding back his disgust for the brutal Irishman in the least.  
  
Schuldrich raises an eyebrow of his own, looking Ken right between the eyes. "You have no idea." he breathes, utilizing a terribly frightening tone. "Brad knows how to get to people - and I mean *really* get to them - even better than I do. And that's saying alot. You think you've seen what he can do? You think you've seen what Schwartz can do? We've gone easy on you. Taking over the world wouldn't be half as fun without someone trying to stop you, even if they don't stand a chance. And believe me, you didn't."  
  
Every last member of Weiss swears the room just dropped a few degrees. They almost would have taken Schuldrich's words as mere intimidation, but the way he had said it, they way he hadn't broken or stumbled over the words once, gives them pause.  
  
They were destined to lose, and had only been kept around for entertainment.  
  
"What about the little guy?" Youji prompts, after digesting what Schuldrich had said. "The telekinetic, Naoe. You didn't mention him."  
  
Schu shrugs, lifting himself out of the dark aura he had been so consumed in. "He's not worth mentioning. Don't get me wrong, the kid's more powerful than all of Weiss and Schwartz put together, but he doesn't know how to harness it yet. Even if he did, he wouldn't go against Crawford. He wants to, but he can't. Hell, he's the reason I'm here, even if he can't get out himself."  
  
"What do you mean?" Omi questions, truly fascinated by this whole conversation.  
  
"I mean...if he hadn't talked to me about what an idiot I'd been for choosing Schwartz over you in the first place, I'd probably still be staring at your crap on my dresser, wondering... 'what if?' If you get what I'm saying."  
  
"So...Nagi's not a threat?" Ken restates, half saying it to himself.  
  
"Oh, he's a threat, he just won't enjoy it. Not like the other two. He'll regret the whole mess, but he'll do what Brad tells him. He doesn't know anything else."  
  
Great. So they have a war on their hands, so to speak. The question is, when will Schwartz strike and how? Well, there are still a few more questions to be answered besides that.  
  
"Do you think we stand a chance?" Youji inquires earnestly, not even dancing around the idea of simply kicking Schu out to save himself.   
  
In fact, despite what Schuldrich expected, the thought of rejecting him hasn't crossed a single mind for even the briefest moment. They accept him, just as Nagi knew they would.  
  
"I mean, we outnumber them, ne?" Youji continues, trying to hide the wince of pain that shoots up his side when he shifts in his seat. "Injuries aside, we've got a pretty powerful weapon having you with us."  
  
"Don't get stuck on the novelty." Schu dismisses. "Farf's mind I can read, but he's way too one-track. Nagi's mind isn't too hard to breach, but...he's getting better all the time. And Brad...well...Brad can keep me out 99 times out of 100. The only times I even come close are when I really piss him off, but he'll be on guard way more than usual. It won't be easy."  
  
Hopping to his feet, Ken takes in Schuldrich's somber mood and turns it around, practically beaming. "You've still got those lightening reflexes, Em." he states proudly, not faltering with the use of Schuldrich's true name in the slightest. "Even Crawford can't beat your super-speed, psychic premonitions or not. All five of us as a team are gonna cream 'em."  
  
"Yeah!" Omi chirps, bouncing up off the couch. "We won't let them win no matter what."  
  
"We'll protect you just like we promised, even if they come at us with everything they've got." Youji joins in next, standing perhaps the tiniest bit slower than the others.  
  
Even silent Ran offers support through an uncharacteristically warm smile, and Schuldrich...Emery...has reason to believe in something again.  
  
*****  
  
Talk about a restless night. Don't get me wrong, the boys didn't drag themselves off to bed until well past midnight, but now that they are snuggled in, very few are actually asleep. Their minds are overrun with thoughts of Death coming to claim them in their sleep, most likely in the form of either an Irishman or an American.  
  
I'm sure you can understand.  
  
Omi is happily off in dreamland, quite content to focus on how their dear friend is back where he belongs. Youji is...close, but the discomfort of his injured side makes everything a little bit harder. Paranoid Ken is tossing and turning, always with a nervous eye on his window. And Ran is staring up at his ceiling, exhaustingly tired, but far from the satisfaction of sleep.  
  
As for Emery...  
  
Knock. Knock.  
  
Tossing a knowing glance at his door, Ran sits up in bed, suppressing a small smile. "You can come in, Emery."  
  
The young German enters, closing the door behind him with a devilish smirk. "How did you know it was me?"  
  
"Lucky guess."  
  
"It's weird hearing you call me that name now. It almost doesn't fit anymore."  
  
"I think it fits fine. And it's nice to know that *those* fit, too."  
  
Obviously, Emery can't borrow Omi's clothes anymore, and since he hadn't brought any of his own back with him, he is now stuck borrowing from someone else. No, not from Youji, as most would guess, even if their styles match up the best. No. Emery is closer in size to Ran, and stands in front of the red-head now wearing a pair of blue pajama pants identical to Ran's black ones.  
  
And that is all he bothered to put on.  
  
"Yeah, well, I could have stuck with Omi's shorts..." Emery grins. "...but I think the term 'pornographically tight' would have been involved with that. Hmm. Maybe I *should* go get them."  
  
Ran replies to this with a mildly amused and very skeptical look. "What do you want, Emery? It's getting late."  
  
That world renowned grin grows a mile longer, and Emery slowly saunters his way over to the bed, not bothering to hide how he is clearly checking Ran out. The sheets have fallen away from his chest and lie just below the waist, showing a hint of those infamous black pants, and a little of those familiar hip bones, as well.  
  
Licking his lips far too hungrily, Emery sits on the edge of the bed and leans forward, bending Ran back onto the mattress.  
  
"I thought we could pick up where we left off..." he purrs, nipping at Ran's delicious jawline, and adoring the tremor that proves the trapped red-head has been caught off guard.  
  
"Don't." Ran stops him, holding Emery back with both hands. "You know we can't."  
  
"Says who?"  
  
"Me." Ran stresses, pushing the German all the way away and sitting back up again. "The same reasons for waiting still apply."  
  
"The same reasons?!" Emery repeats, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. "You mean reasons like waiting to see if I turn back into Schuldrich because we don't know what's going to happen? I don't mean to state the obvious, but have you taken a look at me lately?"  
  
Ran sighs loudly, returning that fierce, blue gaze completely unwavering. "That wasn't the only reason and you know it. I live my life in a way that makes it easy to regret most of what I do. I don't want a reason to add something that should have meaning as just another mistake."  
  
For countless moments, Emery attempts a comeback, but falls short everytime just before opening his mouth. There has to be a way to throw Ran's words back in his face. There has to be, as far as Emery is concerned.  
  
But there isn't. So, he settles for going around the truth instead of shattering it.  
  
"You're really full 'a shit, you know that?" he laughs in a somewhat scornful voice. "We're two consenting adults who obviously want each other. Who says we have to regret anything?"  
  
"Stop making this harder than it has to be." Ran groans, knowing that he is already far too close to giving in. "It wouldn't be right."  
  
"So you'll sleep with a little kid, but you won't give *me* the time 'a day?"  
  
"That isn't fair."  
  
"Life isn't fair, but it belongs to us. Meaning...we're supposed to make the most of it. Now, just because I chose to come back here and play the good guy doesn't mean I don't still have certain...needs...that border on the part of me who's still a little naughty. Get me?"  
  
Ran opens his mouth to counter, but a long finger placed over his lips silences his last chance for rebuttal. Once again, he is pressed back against the mattress, unable to fight his companion off, especially with the feel of such smooth hands running over his chest.  
  
"All I'm asking...is for a chance to make you change your mind." Emery whispers, leaning in so close, their breath mingles, and their noses are practically touching. "If you still want me to stop, I will, but I'm not going without a fight." Grin. "Who knows...maybe that's what turns you on."  
  
"How dare you -"  
  
"Just yanking your chain...Ran..." he cuts in, playing with the sound of that name as it tumbles off his tongue. "Come on now...I promise I'll play nice..." Teasingly, he darts out that silver tongue and licks the tip of Ran's nose. "...for a little while, anyway..."  
  
Ravenously, Emery devours his semi-willing prey's mouth, holding nothing back as he dives in deep, claiming everything as his own. What can Ran possibly do but respond? This is no childish game or timid test of faith. Both know full well what the other is capable of, and both are going to use that knowledge to their full advantage.  
  
Hands stray as quickly as idle hands can, soon becoming everything *but* idle. Emery has control and he likes it that way, smoothing a feather-light touch across Ran's white chest with one hand, while the other digs into fire-red hair, pulling that gorgeous head as close as possible.  
  
Ran allows all of it, clinging to the young - but not too young - body that is lying on top of his own. He holds tight, both arms around Emery's neck, and kisses back passionately, dancing his tongue along with the one that is still roaming his mouth.  
  
This is not at all like what he felt before, and yet it is exactly the same. Emotions pulse hotter, intentions even less pure, but the attraction is the same. Nothing that he adored about Emery is gone from him now that he has grown, it has merely been combined with something else.   
  
Something that knows exactly what it wants.  
  
"...looks like...I changed your mind, after all..." Emery smiles, breathing heavily after breaking from their kiss. "...how about...I keep changing it...all night long...?"  
  
Naughty hands stray down the front of Ran's chest and lower still until reaching those owe so enticing hip bones. Emery looks up into Ran's violet eyes, half-lidded and hazy, and asks permission without saying a word.  
  
Ran doesn't answer, with words of his own or a look of approval. He knows what his body wants, but what he wants is a little more complicated.  
  
Not one to hold much patience, Emery presses deeply along the grove of Ran's hips, massaging over the soft skin. A low groan escapes the back of Ran's throat, the very sound even young Emery had adored, and Ran unwittingly bucks upwards, anything to get closer to those hands.  
  
"...that's the answer I was looking for..."  
  
"...wait..." Ran commands in a hoarse whisper, just as Emery had began slipping those black pants off. "...I'm not going to tell you to stop...but I need to know...why you want this..."  
  
Pulled out of his blissful ravaging, Emery tenses, lifting himself up to look at Ran's face more closely. As flushed as it is, it is also very serious. "What do you want to hear? Not... 'because you'd be one hell of a fuck,' I take it. So...what? I love you? Is that what you want?"  
  
"I just want the truth. Emery...young Emery...was infatuated...probably with the idea of me as someone who could protect him...but was still...untouchable."  
  
"Heh. Sounds like someone has a bit of an ego."  
  
"Make fun if you want, but I'm right. He...for some foolish reason...admired me...and wanted me...and even though I see some of the same in you...I don't get it. Why do *you* want me...?"  
  
Well, plainly put, Emery is stumped. He didn't expect an interrogation. He barely expected to get what he came for. He is achingly close to claiming what he wants, but now he has to think about it.  
  
Damn. What luck.  
  
Rolling off of Ran disgruntledly, Emery lands on his back beside him, lying next to the insistant red-head with a suffering sigh. Neither look at the other, they just stare up at the ceiling. Ran is what Emery isn't: patient. He will wait as long as it takes to get an answer.  
  
(Do I have to say this out loud?) the somewhat frustrated German thinks into Ran's mind.  
  
"No. I just want an answer."  
  
(Then I'm going to answer like this, so I don't chicken out by hearing my voice say it, okay?)  
  
"An answer, Emery. All you have to do is tell me the truth."  
  
Slight pause. The truth isn't something that comes easy to someone like him. It rarely comes easy to anyone. (It's not because I love you.) he answers, as truthfully as he knows how. (I don't think it's that. I don't know, maybe that *is* part of the reason. I know I think you're beautiful. I've thought that all along, even as the kid. That was my excuse. 'He's beautiful and I want to be apart of it.' But like I said, that's just an excuse. You're gorgeous, don't get me wrong, but that's all attraction, and this isn't just about attraction. I...feel like I need you.) Pause again. (Scheist, it even sounds stupid when I think it.)  
  
"It didn't sound stupid to me. Why do you think I keep letting you in?"  
  
(What, you need me, too? Is that what you're saying?)  
  
"Even the devil has friends, but sometimes friends aren't enough."  
  
The bed creaks and shifts, suddenly thrown into movement again. Ran has rolled over and now swings one of his legs to the other side of Emery's body, straddling his waist. Lowering himself just enough to catch the German's eye and keep it, Ran allows the pinned, young man to see something incredibly rare.   
  
A striking smile.  
  
"Hey, what's the idea?" Emery asks with the raise of a sunset-colored eyebrow.  
  
Ran's smile twitches. "Who ever said you got to be on top?"  
  
Whoa. That sounded almost...playful. "As much as I'm enjoying this side of you, would you mind explaining why you're suddenly in the mood again?"  
  
"You gave me an answer. I don't know what I was hoping for, but I liked what was offered. This might be love, but mutual need is enough for now. As long as you're sure you won't regret this."  
  
"Oh, I won't. Love or lust, there's no way anyone would regret a night with you."  
  
Laughter. Very light and subdued, but it's there, like the overtones of a perfect chord. "This is why I need you. I don't feel as...restrained. Freedom can be a very powerful thing."  
  
The kiss that erupts is under Ran's control this time, deep and intense, but holding just enough back to work both young men into a frenzy of need. More and more need.   
  
That is the only true motivation.  
  
"Hold on, Kaetzchen." Emery grins, breaking the kiss and looking up into Ran's vibrant eyes. "What's with the role reversal here? I liked my position where it was."  
  
"Oh, really? And...who do you think would have been in this position had I done this with your younger self?"  
  
"Well...that's different...I mean...he was...I was..."  
  
"Exactly. I would have been right where I am. Not you."  
  
"But...I'm not the kid anymore. I'm all grown up, and I liked our setup the way it was."  
  
Forcefully, Ran grasps Emery's shoulders and pushes him down into the mattress, at the same time spreading his legs apart with his own. "I like this better. Do you have a problem with that?"  
  
For the briefest moment, Emery's face shows real signs of fear, and he swallows, attempting a smile. "Sounds like you're ready to play rough." he speaks softly, unable to hide the slight tremor in his voice. "I suppose I could...hand over control...just this once..."  
  
"You sound a little frightened for someone who is all grown up." Ran taunts, lowing himself completely on top of Emery now. "You don't have to agree." he adds then, suddenly less menacing. "Whatever this is, it's going to be something we both want. So, can this happen under my terms, or do we have to follow yours?"  
  
Ease. Finally, Emery feels at ease again. Ran had only been pressing his buttons, but he isn't used to being on the receiving end. "After that performance...how could I refuse you?"  
  
Back to the beginning. A kiss, straying hands, and naughty intentions. The difference is...someone else is in the driver's seat.  
  
Striking velvet soft kisses down Emery's chest, Ran plays at the waist of the German's cotton pants, slipping his fingers under the elastic. Caressing the outside of both encased legs, he slowly slides the pants down - down, down, down - until getting them free and tossing them to the floor.  
  
Naturally, Emery isn't wearing anything else.  
  
"Heh. I just found a reason to be really glad we waited till I grew up." Emery grins, reaching out to pull Ran's face in closer to his own, since the other red-head's eyes had been focused somewhere else. "The kid's body wouldn't have done me justice. This way...you get all of me...every last inch of me..."  
  
"And I plan on having you." Ran breathes back, trailing a finger from Emery's throat all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, until his hand discovers something else. "...all of you..."  
  
Emery tosses his head back, blinded by sensation as that hand moves, and as the other tenderly brushes the dampening hair from his face. "...uhhh...I think...I'm gonna like...letting you drive...ahhh...de...definitely liking it so far..."  
  
Ran smiles. Despite himself, he actually smiles again, somehow finding it easier than it has been in a long time. Lowering his head to the crook of Emery's neck, he places the softest kiss on the other red-head's cheek, and whispers into his ear. "I want you...to put your hands on my waist..." he instructs. "...then...I want you to slide my pants down...until they're off...and once they are...move your hands away again...understand...?"  
  
"...yes, master..." Emery teases back, but instantly responds, making a point to slip the pants down by running his hands over Ran's rear and the back of his legs instead of along the sides.  
  
He obeys the order to remove those hands once the pants have joined his own on the floor, but not without taking his sweet time about it.  
  
Ran removes his own hand that had been...busy...and uses both to lift Emery's arms up over the German's head, placing them there as if to say that this is where they must stay until he moves them again.  
  
Just then, in the middle of preparing for what he planned to do next, Ran realizes. "We need -"  
  
"Don't worry about it." Emery dismisses, not in the mood to go searching through Kudo's bathroom drawers. "I hope it doesn't turn you off, but...I'm a little worn around the edges, if you know what I mean. Our own natural amenities will do just fine." Giving Ran an adorable wink, he tosses a low glance at Ran's glistening, naked body, really wishing he had his hands free to take advantage.  
  
Slowly tracing down Emery's arms to his shoulders and chest, Ran dives in for a quick kiss, tasting that same mix of flavors - like nicotine, sugar, and burning desire - all over again. His hands continue moving down, sliding over Emery's sides and around his back to grasp the German's hips and hoist him up, making it easier for his legs to wrap around Ran's waist.  
  
Emery takes the hint, and complies, gladly coiling his long legs around that white body, and waiting anxiously for what comes next.  
  
Their eyes are locked, not closed or staring anywhere else. Blue is lost in a sea of violet as much as violet is drowning in blue. What need do they have to look away?  
  
As was said before, Ran has a world of patience, and moves slowly, gently beginning with his fingers, but soon discovers that they aren't as needed as he expected. Emery is more than ready for him; even if the now submissive German had planned to be on the opposite end, he doesn't mind this one bit.  
  
Ran eases in, still holding Emery's gaze for as long as he can, before the red-head beneath is forced to close his eyes after a flood of pleasure rushes through him.  
  
"Ah!" Emery cries, strangling the sound back in his throat. Wouldn't want to wake the natives, after all.  
  
With every movement further, Ran leans his head in closer, nuzzling into Emery's neck, and kissing up along his jawline. "You're so beautiful...as a boy...or a man..." he gasps, trembling at the feel of Emery beginning to move in a very welcome rhythm beneath him.  
  
"...well...I'm glad...the man...gets to be here with you...because...the boy would have passed out by now..."  
  
Ran begins a laugh, but it is cut short as another wave of pure intensity sends them both reeling, gasping for air even as they kiss madly to the rhythm of themselves.  
  
Suddenly, it is like hearing a train outside...and tasting the ripest fruit off the vine...and smelling fresh baked bread from the oven...and seeing flashes of light in every direction...and feeling everything you could ever remember feeling...because every sense is on fire.  
  
"Ran..." Emery manages to choke out through low moans and gasps of air. "...I need you...that wasn't a lie...but...I think I...ahhh...I..."  
  
"You don't...have to say it..." Ran gasps back, increasing their movements without a conscious effort at all anymore.  
  
"I want to...I really do...I just...don't want to be wrong..."  
  
"Wrong...?"  
  
"I've...been wrong...before..." Emery explains, before bucking upwards, still with his arms up over his head. "...but this feels so right...I don't think I...am...not this time..."  
  
Ran's hands are both rather busy now, working as their bodies are working together, and giving Emery one more reason to cry out. Surely the natives are well aware by now, but who cares anymore? Sometimes making noise is half the fun.  
  
"Ah!" Emery practically screams, biting his lip the second the sound leaves his mouth.   
  
Their movement is rapid as they rise and fall, wrapped in each other and still managing to lock lips every so often, even as Emery is still trying to say what he means to say.  
  
"I want to tell you...I have to..." he shudders, ready to explode completely at any moment. "...I...I..."  
  
Light. A flash of truly perfect, blinding light, and both are set free, resulting in Ran collapsing on Emery's chest.  
  
(...I love you...)  
  
The violet eyes that had been closed in fatigue, spring open. "You...what?"  
  
Gently, they disentangle themselves, with Ran slowly lowering Emery's arms back down, until they are curled up together instead of being one on top of the other. Both are highly out of breath and dripping with sweat, but their minds stray from sticky discomfort for now.  
  
"You actually said it." Ran whispers, since Emery hasn't answered him yet. "Did you mean it? I'll understand if you didn't."  
  
"You kidding?" Emery grins, snuggling against Ran much as young Emery would have a few days ago. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Is it so impossible? Nothing has ever felt as...right...as you just did. And like I said..."  
  
"Worn around the edges." Ran finishes.  
  
"Yeah." Emery sighs, wishing he didn't really - really - want a shower right now. "You never said if that bothered you or not."  
  
"It doesn't. Everyone has baggage."  
  
"Even you?"  
  
"Honestly...? Only one. But that doesn't mean I look down on you for having more."  
  
"Good. 'Cause I'm not giving you a number."  
  
Ran laughs. Again. "Fine by me. Now...if you don't mind...late or not...I think I'm going to take a shower." And true to his intentions, Ran slips away and gets out of bed, stretching as he heads for the door. "Oh...and in case you were wondering..."  
  
(I love you back.)  
  
Emery hops up, dashing out of bed to grab Ran's arm before he can get out the door. "One: I heard that, and I *was* wondering. And two: if you think I'm going to let you take that shower alone...you've got another thing coming."  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
Wow. That was kinda fun. Only the second time I've written something like that. So...what do ya think? I figured I owed everyone a scene like this eventually, I just had to wait till the right moment came along. I also don't think it's too fluffy having them say those three little words, because neither actually said it. Fitting, don't you think.   
  
Now, I'm pretty sure I know how this will play out. I'm gonna give you one more chapter to wrap things up, but even if it seems a little open-ended, you're just gonna have to deal with it. Thanks so much for all your support, and PLEASE REVIEW!  
  
P.S: I do not classify this as NC-17 purely because of how it was written. Go back, search for something horrendously graffic. This is well-planned R material. You just have to know how to present it. Thanks again all. 


	17. 17

*****17*****  
  
Another day, another dream, another miracle come true. Monday. Time to open the shop and see what the customers are willing to buy. Koneko no Sumu Ie is one of the most popular shops in all of Tokyo, but as good as their sales are, the customers who come are usually shopping for something other than flowers.  
  
"Eh…? Mariko, doesn't the new guy remind you of someone?" asks a young woman with long, brown hair and honey colored eyes.  
  
"Hai, Michiru." answers her friend, similar in age, but with shorter black hair and an even higher pitched voice, if possible. "He said his name is Emery. Doesn't that sound familiar? He's so bishounen, I'm sure I'd remember us meeting, but I can't place him at all. Oh well, he's too old for us anyway. At least…for a little while."  
  
The girls giggle, slipping out of the shop after happily loitering, flirting, and making a nuisance of themselves, but naturally, without actually buying anything.  
  
It isn't time for the mad rush of school girls yet, but those two always seem to beat the other fangirls to the punch.   
  
Standing near the front beside a display of tigerlilies, Emery - red-headed, blue-eyed, German, 22 year old Emery - smirks beneath a curtain of his sunset-colored hair as he bends to water the nearby flowers. The girls had bothered him ceaselessly, but he is having the last laugh.  
  
"Emmy-chan, why didn't Michiru and Mariko recognize you?" Omi inquires, watching the girls make their way down the street while coming up next to his older friend. "Didn't they meet you when you first came to work here?" Gasp. "Oh no! If they realize how strange it is for you to be…well… suddenly 5 years older than you were, what will they think?"  
  
Emery stands up straight, satisfied with his work, and tosses his long hair out of his eyes. "No worries, Omi. They won't remember a thing. I made sure of that."  
  
"But how did you…oh! You played with their minds a bit, ne?"  
  
"Nothing against the rules. Just something to keep life simple. As far as anyone knows, I've never worked here a day in my life."  
  
Nodding understandingly, Omi bounds away, back to attend his own work, while leaving Emery to do his.  
  
After a few "family meetings" over the weekend, it had been decided that if Emery was going to stay he had to swear he wouldn't use his abilities for any purpose other than helping others, unless it was absolutely necessary. Emery certainly had no objections; it gave him the opportunity to have many peaceful, quiet moments with his own mind.  
  
Brad Crawford would never have allowed that. Brad would have insisted that Schuldrich use his newfound control to expand his powers and use them to exploit even more people than he had before.  
  
But not Weiss. As a newly appointed member of Weiss himself, Emery - dubbed Chartreux for missions - has never been happier, even after only a few days back in the lifestyle he almost left behind.  
  
"Hey, Emery…can I ask you something?"  
  
"Anytime, Kudo. Though I hope you aren't expecting me to mentally scope out dates for you."  
  
In mid step, Kudo Youji jerks to a halt, blushing deeply. He has come up to Emery near the front, seeing an opening after Omi left, but now stands frozen a few inches away. "I…well…I wasn't going to ask that, but I guess you knew I'd been thinking about it, huh?"  
  
"I'd do it, ya know?" Emery grins, setting down his spray bottle and leaning back against the front window.  
  
Youji's eyes light up instantly.  
  
"But…the new rules say I can't. Sorry."  
  
And Youji's hopes just as quickly deflate. No matter; that isn't what he has come to ask about anyway. "Still have Schuldrich's cruel sense of humor, I see." the blonde sneers, but then smiles - genuinely - before leaning back against the storefront window beside his friend. "Look…I was just curious…well…about the other night…that first night you came back…and…the…umm…well..."  
  
"The noises you heard coming from Ran's room?"  
  
Youji coughs, unable to meet the red-head's smiling eyes. "Uhhh…maybe."  
  
Thoroughly enjoying how he is so easily making Youji uncomfortable, Emery laughs at the playboy's expense and hops away from the window, veering around to bring them face to face. "I figured you'd be the first one to approach me about that, but here you are coming to me last."  
  
Timidly, Omi had questioned him about it the morning after, blushing the entire time, of course. Ken had nervously asked about it later in the afternoon, blushing almost as badly. But only now, after the weekend, and after everyone else knows the truth, does Youji come to take *his* turn.  
  
"What do you think those noises were? A midnight sparring session?" Laugh again. "Actually, what we did in the shower probably *could* be considered that."  
  
Youji stares back with wide, emerald eyes, but before he knows it, he is joining in with Emery's laughter. Truth be told, the two oldest members of this newly formed Weiss have quite a bit in common.   
  
Too much according to most of their companions.  
  
"What are you guys laughing about?" Ken questions, coming in through the door with a shake of his windblown hair. The young brunette has just returned from deliveries on his motorcycle. "Keep it up and Ran'll have your hides. I'd get back to work, if I were you."  
  
"If you were me?" Emery shoots back. "I shudder at the thought, KenKen."  
  
At the use of that barely tolerated nickname, Ken turns 50 shades of crimson. "Don't call me that! It makes me sound like I'm 4 years old, or something."  
  
"Aww, the little Kaetzchen wants to be all grown up." Emery teases, speaking in a babyish voice and reaching over to ruffle Ken's hair. "But you're such a cute little boy, KenKen. See what a mess you've made of yourself by being on your own?"  
  
Moving his hand from the recently made snarls of Ken's hair - which is disarrayed because of forces beyond his control - Emery reaches down to pinch the brunette's cheek, causing the young man to groan and angrily push him away.  
  
Youji joins the merciless German in laughing at their younger teammate, but their fun is soon interrupted.  
  
"Would you two stop acting like idiots and get back to work!" booms a sudden and very menacing voice. "If I have to tell you one more time -"  
  
"No sweat, liebe." Emery winks, sauntering seductively over to the irritated red-head that has appeared to ruin their fun. "I'll be happy to get back to work…for a kiss."  
  
Do the others know about Emery and Ran? Check. Does Ran know they know? Not so much.  
  
Emery laughs a very pleased, very soft and teasing, laugh in reaction to Ran's white face turning so adorably pink. "Pretty please?" he pouts, pulling Ran close by grasping the front of his pants. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior the rest of the day."  
  
"That's not saying much." Youji laughs under his breath, thoroughly enjoying the show.  
  
"Can it, Kudo." Emery snarls, though he turns just as naughtily back to Ran as he had before. "Pucker up now, beautiful. I'm not a patient man."  
  
(Don't worry. They know. I'm just making you sweat a little.) Emery sends into Ran's mind, while wrapping his arms around the still pink and rather annoyed looking red-head. (A kiss isn't too much to ask, is it?)  
  
Ran seems as if he is about to protest, eyeing the three other members of Weiss who have gathered around to see just how amiable he is going to be about this. Then - to everyone's surprise - he starts to lean in towards his lover's waiting lips.  
  
CRASH. No chance for a kiss. The moment is interrupted as something comes flying through the shop's large, front window, shattering the glass in a million different directions.  
  
Ran shields Emery instinctively, pulling both of them to the floor. The others dart off to the side, all managing to avoid being struck by flying glass, although the object that has caused all of this commotion, lands right beside Emery's head.  
  
An old cliché: a brick with a note. The original part, however, is that this particular note is tied to the brick with a yellow bandanna.  
  
Jumping to his feet, Emery backpedals almost a mile, desperate to get away from what he knew he would eventually have to face, but what he isn't prepared to deal with yet.  
  
Slowly, the others pick themselves up from the floor and gather around as Ran retrieves the brick, carefully examining it.  
  
"It's from Brad." Emery breathes, his face pale and oddly blank.  
  
"How do you know?" Omi prompts softly, gazing up at his spooked friend in hopes that he can offer at least a little comfort.  
  
Emery merely taps the side of his head. "He says 'Hi'."  
  
With a stern look of his own, Ran carefully unties the bandanna and unwraps the note. He doesn't read it, as tempted as he is, but hands it - and the familiar, yellow cloth - to Emery.  
  
"What does it say?" Ken pipes in, after Emery had stared far too long, and with far too stricken features, at the note.  
  
Straining his eyes, Emery uses all the strength he has to keep them from tearing up, and to keep his emotions from seeping into his voice. "It says... 'I hope you're happy with your choice, because you won't be enjoying it much longer. Weiss was never a serious enough threat to get rid of before, but you've changed all that. Rest assured...'" Emery trails off, unable to say the next phrase, but he knows he has to be honest with them in order for them to be prepared for what will soon be coming their way. "'Rest assured...that we will kill every last one of them, and it will not be the quick deaths they may have been granted once before. I will personally make sure you are there to watch them die before we dispose of you, as well. That's a promise, Schuldrich. Yes, Schuldrich. Because that is who you are, and you can never go back. I am giving you one chance to return to Schwartz. Come tonight...with four dead bodies...and the insignificant part of you that has found remorse will not have to watch them suffer. Don't, and we play this my way. The choice is yours.' Signed...Crawford." Emery adds with a sad smile, holding the note limply in one hand, and his once treasured bandanna in the other.  
  
Without a word, the fact that the shop still has a few hours to go before closing means absolutely nothing, as Youji moves to the front and pulls down the shutters. The broken window will have to wait.  
  
After the shop is successfully locked up, everyone once again gathers around Emery, who has barely moved, and who can't seem to unglue his eyes from the items in his hands.  
  
"Emery..." Omi's very small and very frightened voice breaks into the deafening quiet of the shop. "...you...you're not going to kill us...are you...?"  
  
In any other situation, Emery would have burst out laughing, but the sad truth is, he doesn't find it very funny, because...he doesn't know how to answer.  
  
(I had a plan.) he reasons with himself, closing his eyes to keep out the piercing stares of his...possible friends. (I knew what I wanted, I took it, and I liked what it gave me. So...why do I find myself questioning my choice again?)  
  
"Emery...?" Omi prompts again, sounding even more afraid than before, and with a quiver in his voice that betrays the presence of tears.  
  
(Fuck. What am I supposed to do? Weiss is no match for Schwartz, no matter what side I'm on. Besides, a few days here, and permission from a computer screen to be apart of the group, doesn't mean anything. Does it...?)  
  
"Emery, please...say something." Still Omi. Still desperate.  
  
At last, Emery opens his eyes again and turns his head slowly to look down at the young blonde beside him. "Am I...going to kill you...?" he repeats, sounding very far away, as if watching himself speak. "I...I don't...I'm not..."  
  
"Turning on us now would be really bad karma, ya know?" Youji puts in, attempting humor, but meaning something far more serious.  
  
"I...I just don't know." Emery finishes, clenching the note and bandanna so tight, the skin around his knuckles becomes whiter than Ran.  
  
"Don't you?" asks a deep voice from just behind him. Before Emery can turn, strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him back against a very firm body. "I won't let you go. Not again. If you want out...then you're going to have to kill me like he asked...because nothing else is going to get rid of me. And I know the same goes for the others. Right?"  
  
"Damn straight, it does!" Ken announces proudly.  
  
"Every word." Youji grins.  
  
Even Omi manages a slight smile through his lingering tears. "We won't let you go without a fight."  
  
"Well you're getting one!" Emery growls back, pushing Ran away and stumbling a few steps away from the group. "It was easy to choose you when I didn't have to deal with them. But Brad is serious. Dead serious. If I don't go...he'll do things to you...you couldn't even imagine. I don't want that to happen-"  
  
"What's the difference?" Ken cuts in, clenching his fists almost as tightly as Emery. "If you stay and we lose, we're dead. But if you go back, the only way he's going to accept you is if you've got four heads in your back pocket. The difference, Em, is *you*. You are guaranteed survival if you turn on us, but you're not if you stay. How can you refuse risking it all for that third possibility - we win and everyone lives?!"  
  
"Because it'll never happen!" Emery cries, throwing both the note and the bandanna to the floor. "We can't win! We can't."  
  
"So you'd rather save your own ass than try?" Youji sneers, unafraid as he stalks right up to Emery and glares emerald daggers into the blue.  
  
"I..I don't know...I just -"  
  
(I love you.)  
  
Emery stops dead, no longer able to think at all as that simple message booms into his mind. Still where Emery had left him after pushing away, Ran stands stone still, betraying nothing of his feelings on his face, but expressing them openly right where Emery can catch a glimpse.  
  
"I..." he trails off, seeing nothing but Ran, and forgetting what he had been about to say.  
  
(You heard me.) booms Ran's inner voice once again. (I love you. And if I remember correctly, you said the same to me only a few nights ago. Did that mean nothing? I'm not trying to play the heartbroken romantic, because we never really promised anything, but didn't that night mean something to you?)  
  
(It meant everything to me!) Emery answers, half wanting to leap forward and dive into Ran's arms. (I don't want to sound like a sap either, but...it didn't mean nothing.)  
  
"Then choose us." Ran pleads aloud. "Choose me. You'd be lying to yourself if you tried to go back and be Schuldrich now. We're all willing to risk our lives for you. Is it so much to ask the same?"  
  
Ouch. That's a powerful blow. So what now? Choices...choices...choices. The only guarantee is that Emery will live if he does as Brad has demanded. Nothing else can be certain. But does nothing else matter? Is his own life the only thing he treasures?  
  
Not anymore.  
  
"It isn't going to be easy." Emery smiles, allowing his defenses to drop and pull in all the support around him.  
  
"To hell with easy!" Ken shouts. "We'll do whatever we have to."  
  
"And we won't let them win no matter what!" Omi chimes in.  
  
"Even if every odd is against us." Youji grins next.  
  
"And even if no one believes in us." Ran finishes. "That is...except for each other."  
  
One thing about true friendship: it doesn't know when to quit. Ever.  
  
"Alright, boys." Emery calls, leaving every ounce of doubt, regret, and fear behind. "Let's go beat the odds."  
  
*****  
  
Speaking of the odds, what of the other side? Weiss has made their choice, so how is Schwartz going to handle it? After all, they don't need to wait for an answer. They have their very own glimpse into the future as the leader guiding them through this. So, what is their reaction to the end of their "family" as they have known it for so long?  
  
"He can't! He can't choose them! It isn't possible!" Brad screams, punching angrily at the wall in his bedroom. As was said, he didn't have to wait all night for Schuldrich's answer, because Emery's choice came to him in a very unpleasant vision. "He knows where this will lead. He knows they stand no chance against us. Why would he throw his life away?!"  
  
Brad isn't addressing his question to anyone in particular, because as far as he knows, no one else is there. But someone *is* there. Someone who has become very good at remaining unnoticed.  
  
The other members of Schwartz had been present when Brad's vision of Schuldrich's final betrayal struck him, but they quickly split off in different directions to deal with the news in their own ways.  
  
Nagi, however, has no place to go, because in all truth and honesty, he isn't upset that Schuldrich chose to stay as Emery. Of course he isn't. He longs for the same freedom, even if he fears it will never be his.  
  
Peering into Brad's room through a crack in the door, Nagi watches his leader closely, with no need to vent himself, and discovers that the relief he had felt for Emery's sake isn't going to last.  
  
"Weiss will pay dearly for this, but it will be nothing compared to what I do to him!"  
  
Slam. Brad punches again, and Nagi flinches backwards into the hallway as if that fist had struck him. Nothing could ever change his mind from believing that Emery made the right decision, but it is a sour victory, because now they are enemies.  
  
Slowly, but swift enough to quickly escape Brad's continued cursing, Nagi makes his way to the end of the hall and descends the stairs that lead into the basement. Perhaps Farfarello is handling this better.  
  
Sure he is.  
  
Just as Nagi reaches the turn at the bottom of the steps, an inhuman howl erupts from Farfarello's cell, almost forcing Nagi to sprint back up the way he came. But he doesn't. His curiosity pushes him forward.  
  
Farfarello is not yelling out threats and punching at his padded walls. Oh no. That would be far too normal of a reaction. The enraged albino is thrashing about his room, scraping his dagger along those walls instead, and panting wildly as he wears himself out through his crazed frenzy.  
  
Nagi wouldn't have dared to disturb Brad, because that would have been suicide. Why he thinks disturbing the deranged Irishman will be any different, is any one's best guess.  
  
"Farfarello..." he whispers, inching through the cell door.  
  
The madman halts his assault on the cell instantly, and turns to glare back at Nagi with that single, piercing eye. "What do you want?" he barks, clenching his fingers around the dagger even more tightly than they had been before.  
  
"I...I was just..." Nagi falters, at a loss for what he can possibly say. After all, as much as Schuldrich meant to Farfie, that connection only spurns more hatred now. "Nothing. Forget it." And he turns around, heading right back up the stairs he so recently came down.  
  
They don't understand. Both are desperate to get their hands on Emery and choke the life out of who he has become. Nagi, however, wishes him all the happiness he himself can never have.  
  
At first, the young brunette heads for his own room, but soon finds himself drawn to the one Schuldrich has left behind. It holds no mystery anymore, no life or style, simply because...what made it different from all the other rooms...is gone.  
  
"I miss you." Nagi breathes, closing the door behind him, and imagining that Schuldrich...no...that Emery is sitting on the bed. "I told you I'd miss you if you became *him*. But it feels so empty. They're determined to destroy you, and...I don't want to be apart of it. I have no quarrel with Weiss. I have no place here. But...I have no where else to go. Brad would find me anyway. He'd do worse things to me than he plans to do to you. Maybe...maybe I'm not meant to escape...like you did."  
  
By now, Nagi has seated himself on the bed, and speaks to the shadows as if they might just speak back. After all, every once in a while...they do.  
  
"Maybe...I don't get a second chance..."  
  
(Everyone gets second chances, kid. Even screw ups like us.)  
  
Nagi whirls around, searching the room for the source of that mental voice. But the room is empty.  
  
(The way I see it, the only thing that can rob you of your second chances...is not believing in them.)  
  
"Where are you...?" Nagi whispers frantically, darting from one corner of the room to another, and back again.  
  
(Waiting for you. But you better hurry, 'cause Brad's about two seconds from realizing he's gonna lose another one of his pawns.)  
  
"You came back for me...?" Nagi asks with a strange, uncommon smile. "But...I can't leave. What if -"  
  
(What if you're stuck there forever? What if you help them kill Weiss - kill me - only to end up killing your little girlfriend one day, too? Is that what you want your life to be?)  
  
"But Weiss won't...they...they'll turn me away."  
  
(Oh really? And just who do you think's in the car with me, huh? Did you expect me to get this close to the fire again without bringing a little protection? Now get a move on, kid. I'm not leaving without you.)  
  
Enough said. That's all Nagi needed to hear.  
  
Sprinting to the door, Nagi peers down the hallway - in one direction is Brad's room and the stairway to Farfarello, in the other is the front door. For once, he knows exactly which direction he is going to take.  
  
(Hey, Nagi? I've got one word for ya.)  
  
"What's that?" Nagi asks, halfway to the door that will lead him outside...to freedom.  
  
(Run.)  
  
*****owari*****  
  
*****A/N*****  
  
*sobs* I really enjoyed writing that fic, and now it's over! But it is over, because it has to be. I have other fics to write, and I am very happy with how I have ended this. I hope you are, too, and I thank all of you for your wonderful support and comments. You guys are why I love doing this. Thanks so much, and I beg, now that the story has ended, PLEASE REVIEW! And I'll see ya next ficcie.  
  
~Crimson~ 


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